


50 Shades of Fey

by HachimansKitsune



Category: Labyrinth
Genre: BDSM, Domestic Discipline, F/M, Kink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-23
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2018-02-14 07:59:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 35
Words: 283,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2184003
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HachimansKitsune/pseuds/HachimansKitsune
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sarah has to put her faith in a complete stranger to keep her brother with her after the death of their parents. To do so, she has to give him power over both herself, and her little brother. When she finds out who their mysterious benefactor is, will she regret her decision? (NOTE: This is NOT based on the 50 Shades novel - but there are kink and sexual themes). If you don't like dominant Jareth, then please, don't bother reading.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Offer

_**Authors Note:**_  Yes, it was bound to happen. I'm surprised someone didn't do it before me, but given my reputation for writing Laby fanfic with a 'kink' component, it was only a matter of time before someone dared me to do this. So…here it is –  _'Fifty Shades of Fey'_ Please note, I have NOT read 'Fifty Shades of Grey' – nor do I intend to. I object to the fact that that it basically plagiarized the author's fanfic and is therefore NOT an original publication, but the author (and publisher for that matter) are trying to pass it off as such. I have read many objections to the way the kink aspects are handled in that story, with many people in the kink community maintaining that it fails to present the issue of consent clearly.

The story you have here is merely a play on the title and bears no relation to that 'novel'.

 **Warnings:**  Yes, this is an 18+ story (hello…this is me writing it. Anyone who knows me knows I write mostly 18+ stuff). There are no warnings for THIS chapter, but there will be potential trigger warnings in later chapters.

* * *

**Fifty Shades of Fey**

_**Ch 1: The Offer** _

Sarah always liked fall. There was just something magical about the crisp, almost 'tangy' sharpness of the air, and the way everything smelled earthy and spicy at the same time. The way leaves crunched under foot as she walked down the sidewalk, shattering brittle between her favourite leather boots and the cement. She loved the smell of fires as people lit their fireplaces for the first time since the snows melted. And she especially loved fall thunderstorms, the way they slowly seemed to creep in, before declaring their dark intent with angry grumbles that shook the ground.

Yes, fall was her favourite time of year.

 _Was._  Past tense.

Times change and so do feelings. This year fall was a bleak, grey, shroud that seemed to suck the very breath from her lungs, and any hope and joy along with it.

A deep rumble echoed overhead as Sarah looked out the window at the steely clouds hanging low in the sky. The trees in the backyard swayed and groaned as the wind picked up, whipping leaves around and blowing the last few stragglers from the limbs. As the sky rumbled again, she sighed, leaning against the window of her room as she looked out. Thunderstorms used to worry her, now they made her think.

About the Labyrinth…and 'Him'.

A flash of white caught her eye in the trees that lined the far end of the yard. She held her breath as she looked at it, a loud rumble shaking the foundations. Seeing only a bit of white paper caught in the leaves, fluttering, she let go of the breath in a rush that fogged the icy pane of the window. Even now, four years later, thunderstorms reminded her of what she nearly lost and the person she had to fight to prevent it.

 _Goblin King_ …whispered her mind.  _Jar…e…._

"No," she muttered, shutting her eyes tight. "Don't say it…don't even  _think_  it."

She knew it was probably only a silly childish superstition, but she felt in her bones that to even think his name, was to invoke him – and that was an invitation she wasn't about to initiate.

Sarah wanted to believe her trip to the Labyrinth and her dealings with the Goblin King were some teen-age fantasy, but there were too many odd occurrences that made it impossible not to accept the truth. White owl feathers finding their way into Toby's crib, her backpack, her jackets and even her bed. The way bubbles seemed to find her, even when there was no one blowing them nearby. And they always seemed to float in space, lasting an impossibly long time before she could stand it no longer and would reach out, popping them with a sparkly pink painted nail. And each time she could swear she heard music – and screaming.

No. The Labyrinth was real…and so was 'He'. She was convinced of it.

With a sad sigh Sarah turned from the window, looking at her childhood bedroom now devoid of posters and belongings, the only evidence that someone had lived here being the boxes neatly stacked around the room – taped up and labeled for the moving company. Sarah felt her eyes sting with tears demanding to be set free as she turned her attention back to the window and the storm rolling overhead, readying itself to unleash a torrent of rain. She didn't want to leave the house, but she had no choice. This was her last night in the house she grew up in.

"I'm not ready for this," she whispered to the room and the yard as she watched the clouds. "I don't know how to be an adult…not really."

For years she had fought the 'smothering' of her father and stepmother, knowing that they did it with love, but wanting her independence and to be treated as an adult. At 17 she had one year left of high school and wanted desperately to have the freedom of an adult. Now, here she was faced with just that and she no longer wanted it, not that she had a choice in the matter. It was either strike out on her own or foster care and she knew what happened to older kids in foster care – it wasn't pretty.

Frowning, Sarah traced random lines on the window-pane, fogged by the heat of her breath against the cold glass. If she had been paying attention she would have recognized the lines formed a simple maze, a labyrinth drawn in mist, which disappeared almost as fast as her fingertip drew it. Lost in thought she didn't notice a fluttering white form alight on a tree at the back of the garden, momentarily visible before settling back into them brackish darkness of the pine boughs, the only evidence of its existence being the yellow glint off its eyes as it slowly blinked.

It had been an emotional and stressful six weeks, culminating in the forest of moving boxes that now surrounded her and filled every room. Six weeks to sort through a house that held several generation's worth of memories, preparing to leave it forever. Six weeks of being 'the adult' when all she wanted was someone to cuddle her, stroke her head and tell her everything would be okay.

Two days before she was due to start her last year in high school, Sarah's life and Toby's changed in a way she never expected. She remembered feeling uneasy as her father and step-mother prepared to go out for the night, even Toby was unusually upset, the five year old throwing a huge tantrum and begging them to stay. Sarah had suggested that maybe they should stay home, but her suggestion was shrugged off with a laugh and an admonition to 'grow up and stop being silly'.

They should have listened.

It took hours to calm Toby down enough to get him to bed, the poor kid finally crying himself into an exhausted sleep clutching Lancelot with a tear-stained face. At midnight Sarah finally made her way down to the lounge, her unease growing. She was dozing fitfully on the couch when flashing red and blue lights started to bounce around the room. With a start she looked out the window and felt her blood run cold as two police cruisers pulled into the driveway. They were very officious and apologetic when she opened the door. She remembered the whole scene with an almost clinical coldness – name verification….break it to the family gently….express sympathy….see if they can call someone.

A wry smile twisted her lips as Sarah shut her eyes against the tears that were trying so hard to make themselves known. Leaning against the window, the memory took hold of her again. Call someone? There was no one to call. Her parents were both only children. Her birth mother was off who-knows-where with her latest conquest. There were no aunts or uncles to take in the now orphaned teen and her little brother. Nor were there any doting grandparents. There was no one. Not even a close family friend she could turn to.

No. It was all up to her. To Sarah.

But, she was up to the challenge. The Labyrinth and the Goblin King had seen to that. Since the night she wished Toby away, she had learned to stay strong when things seemed insurmountable. It was only that strength of will, and the comfort she drew from this room and house that kept her going. She identified bodies. Made funeral arrangements. Decided on coffins and cremation and memorial services. Arranged internment plots. Greeted guests and colleagues. And a million other things – all while forcing down her own grief. She had to. She had to keep it together for Toby's sake.

At the thought of Toby her heart clenched and a tear finally fought its way free to slide down her cheek, burning hot in its path then turning icy cold in the chilled air flowing off the icy window-pane.

She'd held it together and gone through all of the 'adult' steps and for what? To lose Toby anyway…and the house as well.

"It's not fair," she muttered, her voice cracking as the rumbling outside increased.

When all the guests had left and the colleagues and given their last 'condolences' that had no real feeling behind them, all that was left was a lawyer in a grey flannel suit and the official. And that is where things went from bad to worse. Instead of inheriting the house, Sarah discovered that it had been sold the year before – her family was only renting it and she couldn't afford the rent on the small amount she made working at the local coffee shop.

Then there was the issue of Toby.

Shaking her head, Sarah sniffed as several more tears, of anger and despair now, followed the first down her cheeks, her hands clenching in fists against her thighs.

"It's not fair," she muttered again, her eyes staring dully into the growing gloom of the wintery dusk.

You'd think that being a lawyer, her father would have known better than to have written a will, but left it un-notarized. The fucking thing wasn't legal. So even though it clearly gave her power of attorney and guardianship over Toby, the state was going to take him and there wasn't a damn thing she could do about it.

She tried to argue it, but since she wasn't even of legal age and definitely didn't have the money to fight the state through the courts, there was nothing she could do. So this was it. In the morning the department of children's services would be by to pick up Toby. "At least he'll be taken care of," she tried to tell herself, knowing it was hollow comfort. They had offered her a spot in foster care too, but at a half-way house for 'troubled teens'. Thankfully her Tudie, her boss at the coffee shop had given her an alternative, letting her stay in the tiny studio apartment above the shop for free. "You can have it as long as you need it, honey," the older woman has said, patting Sarah's arm gently in the first sincerely comforting gesture anyone had shown toward Sarah since this whole nightmare began. The offer was great – for Sarah. But a teeny studio was no place for a child.

Thinking of Toby made the tears come harder now, dripping off the tip of her nose onto the pale pink velvet of the window seat cushion below her, turning the material deep pink as they soaked into the faded fabric. Toby was being taken away and he didn't know what was going to happen. She'd spent the last week trying to find a way to break the news to him, but how do you tell a five year-old that not only have they lost their parents, they are being taken away from the only other living relative they have left. In the end she decided the best she could do was leave him with happy memories, so she filled their last week with games and stories, trips to the park, playing pretend, afternoons at the museum and junk-food filled movie-nights.

"Through dangers untold…and hardships unnumbered…I have fought my way here…to the castle beyond the Goblin City…." She whispered against the glass, before sagging onto the window seat and burying her face in her hands. "I fought so hard for you Tobes…and I'm going to lose you anyway," she sobbed. Her shoulders shook as she let out the grief, anger and fear that she had been storing up for weeks. As she cried, the rumbling grew louder as wind ripped at the trees, seeming to feed on her grief.

"I don't ….want to lose him," she sniffed brokenly. "I fought too hard to keep him and failed anyway."

Rain pelted the window and the wind howled through the trees as the storm finally unleashed its power. Sarah cried until there were no tears left, eventually drawing her knees to her chest as she sat on the window seat. Leaning her head on her knees, she looks out the window into the now dark yard, watching the rain, her eyes burning and sore.

With an exhausted whimper she whispered so softly even the dust bunnies couldn't hear, "I wish someone would come…save us from this nightmare."

And with the rain softening to a light, soothing drizzle against the window, Sarah finally cried herself to sleep.

* * *

_Tap…tap…tap…._

Sarah shifted in her uncomfortable position and muttered, "Go away Toby…I'm sleeping."

_Tap…tap…tap…_

Shifting again, Sarah nearly fell off the window seat before she opened her eyes. "Huh…what?" she mumbled stretching, before she realized the tapping was actually banging and it was coming from the front door.

"Crap!" she gasped, lurching to her feet and dodging the boxes to get out of her room and down the stairs. As she raced through the lower hall she glanced at the clock. 7:30.  _What time do you call this then?! They aren't due until 11…and they can't have Tobes until then…_  she thought with a defiant frown stealing over her face.

Pulling open the door she prepared to give them a piece of her mind, but stopped short. There was a man standing on the front porch in an expensive looking black suit and dress coat of grey wool. He was older, with grey hair, glasses and carrying a black leather briefcase. She didn't recognize him, but he was most assuredly  _not_  the social worker.

"Ms. Sarah Williams?" he asked, his words crisply accented, suggesting he was definitely not local.  _Maybe_ British… she thought as she tucked a stray hair behind her ear.

"Um…yes?" she replied, sounding unsure as she held onto the door handle.

He held out his hand, "My name is Alyn Foster, I am on retainer by Mr. Gareth Rex, a client of your father's."

Sarah shook his hand warily. "Look…if my father owes your client money, he's going to have to through the probate court. They have the house and anything else of value," she sighed.

The man gave a slightly amused smile and shook his head, releasing her hand. "You misunderstand, my dear. I am not here trying to collect monies from your father's estate. On the contrary, I am here with an offer that my employer would like you to consider," he relied. "May I come in?"

With a dazed nod, Sarah stepped back, letting him in. She shut the door after him, and ran a hand through her hair. "Um…please excuse the mess. The movers are coming today to take everything away." He nodded and looked around, his expression unreadable. "But…um… we can talk in the dining room," she suggested, leading him down the hall. Following her into the dining room, now empty except for the table and chairs, Mr. Foster settled himself on one of the chairs, laying his briefcase on the table.

"Thank you, this will do nicely," he said, snapping his briefcase open and pulling out a large envelope and laying it in front of her as she sat down opposite him. "This is the offer from Mr. Rex."

Reaching out, Sarah picked up the large white envelope turning it over in her hands. The back of the envelope had no markings, save for a red wax seal with an imprinted crest in it. She looked questioningly at Mr. Foster.

"Mr. Rex sealed the envelope. I do not know the terms of the offer," he says. "My instructions were to deliver it and await your decision."

Sarah carefully slid a finger under the wax seal, opening the envelope and pulling out a sheaf of papers held together with a clip. Frowning she flipped through them. "Um…how long do I have to make a decision? I mean, I'm going to have to read it carefully. It looks like a contract of some sort."

Mr. Foster simply nodded, "It is a contract and my instructions are merely to await your reply. No deadline was given."

Biting her lip, Sarah began to read through the letter that was attached to the front of the papers, her eyes going wide as she read…

_Dear Ms. Williams:_

_As a client and friend of your father's I am saddened by his loss and the tragedy that has befallen your family. I have greatly admired your father's honesty and integrity, which is why my family has long used him for our legal matters in your country._

_While the will left with your father's lawyer in the US was incomplete, I am pleased to inform you that he did indeed have a legal will in the UK, a copy of which is before you now. Over the past few years, your father sought my advice is relieving some of his financial difficulties so that he could provide for you and your brother. During the course of our dealings together, I helped him develop a trust fund for you and your brother. As part of the terms of the trust, in the event of your parents' death, I was granted guardianship of you and your brother, and power of attorney over the trust until you turn 21, at which point you become the primary guardian for Tobias and sole trustee of the funds._

_Due to the international nature of this arrangement and your age, it requires your consent. Should you not consent to my taking guardianship of both yourself and your brother, then all trust monies are to be held in escrow, with each of you inheriting half upon your 25_ _th_ _birthday._

_I realize that the situation is far from ideal and the terms of your father's will require you to place your trust in someone who is, by all accounts, a complete stranger, but I do have your and your brother's best interests in mind – as was your father's wish._

_Please review the will and consent paperwork before you. Mr. Foster is a certified attorney and able to notarize all documents, as well as answer any questions for you pertaining to the legality of the contract, will and other documents._

_I hope to see you soon._

_G. Rex_

Blinking, Sarah looked at Mr. Foster. "This is real?" she asked.

"Indeed it is," he replied.

Catching her lip with her teeth, Sarah flipped to the will beneath it. "I…I'm going to need some time to read this," she said.

Foster rose with a curt nod, saying, "I shall leave you alone to review the documents. When you are done or need me to address any questions, I will be in the lounge."

Sarah watched him leave the room then looked back at the will and began to read. The will itself was more generous than she had expected, leaving she and Toby enough money that they would be quite comfortable and if invested wisely, could set them up for the rest of their lives.

Then she turned to the consent contract. Sarah nibbled on the end of the pen as she read through it, frowning more and more. If she signed the document, she would be granting Mr. Rex power of attorney and guardianship over Toby as well as herself. The terms of the contract, while stated simply, were anything but. In essence, he would have power over both of their lives. Biting her lip, Sarah mulled it over. Could she really give control over her life for the next four years to a stranger in order to keep she and Toby together?

As she was considering the offer, the house phone rang, the sound shattering the quiet of the morning. Hopping up, Sarah trotted into the kitchen to answer it.

"Hello?"

"Yes, Ms. Williams? This is Nancy Green, from social services," said the voice on the other end of the line.

"Oh..um…hi," Sarah mumbled, feeling her heart start to tighten in her chest.

"I'm sorry to have to do this, Ms. Williams, but the foster family we have set up for your brother would like to pick him up early, so I will be by in an hour to pick him up," the woman said matter-of-factly.

"But…you can't do that," protested Sarah, her hand tightening on the phone in a panic. "We have until 11. You promised."

"Please, don't make this any harder than it has to be," said the social worker, her tone emotionless.

"But…" Sarah tried again, unable to think of anything that might sway the woman on the phone.

"I'll be there at 9 with a sheriff's deputy," the social worker replied, her voice hard now. "Don't make him be necessary."

When she hung up, Sarah stood for a moment looking at the phone as it beeped at her. An hour. That was all she had left with Toby and she hadn't even told him yet. Her mind was a whirlwind of panic and despair.

"Is everything all right, Ms. Williams?" asked Mr. Foster from the doorway, his grey eyes narrowed in concern.

"They're going to take him," she muttered, still staring at the bleeping phone. "In an hour. They'll take him and I'll never see him again." Pacing the kitchen she wrung her hands, finally looking at him, her eyes wild and pleading, "If…if I sign the contract, will that stop them?" she asked.

"I don't know," he says. "I haven't read it."

Sarah rushed to the dining table, grabbing the will and the contract and ran back to Mr. Foster. He took the documents and read them rapidly, then nodded. "Yes. If the documents are signed and notarized before they arrive, then it is official and takes priority over any other claims and legal contracts."

Glancing at the clock, Sarah felt her heart squeeze as Toby came blearily into the room, clutching Lancelot by one paw. "'Mornin' Sarah. Who's dat?" the five-year-old asked with a yawn, rubbing his eyes as he looked at Mr. Foster.

That one question from the person she loved most in the world sealed the deal – and her fate.

"Let's do this," she said, grabbing the papers from Mr. Foster and quickly scribbling her name in the marked spaces.

As the clock struck 9, Mr. Foster stamped the documents, finalizing them.

The deal was done.

They now were under the guardianship of Mr. Gareth Rex, for better or worse, and Sarah really hoped it was for better.

Pulling Toby into a tight hug, Sarah kissed the top of his head, whispering, "I lost you once and got you back. No one is ever going to take you from me again."

 


	2. Home is Where the Heart Is

**Ch2: Home Is Where the Heart Is**

* * *

**Warnings:**  Yes, this is an 18+ story (hello…this is me writing it. Anyone who knows me knows I write mostly 18+ stuff). However, there are no warnings for THIS chapter….gotta finesse those things, can't just jump into them willy-nilly.

* * *

**Fifty Shades of Fey**

_**Ch 2: Home is Where the Heart Is** _

The moment Sarah signed the guardianship contract, everything started happening incredibly fast. It was almost magical how easy things suddenly got for the two of them. When the social worker showed up, Mr. Foster met the woman at the door, and in a clipped tone that was cold and officious, informed her in no uncertain terms that Toby would  _not_  be going with her – that day or any other. Sarah watched the scene on the front porch from her spot on the couch looking out the parlor window, with Toby tucked in her lap. She almost wished she had a picture of the indignant outrage on the woman's face as it soon became a mask of fear when Mr. Foster told her to leave or she would be charged with attempted kidnapping as the 'children' were now under the care of Mr. Gareth Rex. The woman's face went white at that news, much to Sarah's amusement. While she may not know who Mr. Rex was, apparently he was someone of some power, because Ms. Green rushed off after that.

But the whirlwind of action in their lives didn't stop there. Before he had even shut the door on the rapidly retreating back of Ms. Green, Mr. Foster was on his phone.

"Ms. Williams has signed the forms, Sir," she heard him saying, as he quickly walked through the house surveying and mentally tallying the boxes and furnishings. "The movers are coming this afternoon. I will make arrangements for their belongings to be rerouted to Tylluan House."

She strained to hear who she assumed was Mr. Rex on the other end of the phone, but could hear nothing except for Mr. Foster's replies.

"Yes. The plane is waiting at the airfield. We should be back at the house by tea time tomorrow….Yes, Sir. I will tell them….. I will contact you when we have landed. Yes, Sir. I will….. "

When he hung up, Sarah was dying to ask him what Mr. Rex had said, but she wasn't given the chance, as he began making arrangements for taking them to their new home, and their new guardian, Mr. Gareth Rex.

Within hours Sarah and Toby were on their way to the airport, tucked in the back of a sleek black sedan. Sarah could barely believe it when Mr. Foster walked them out of their home to his car. She thought he was alone, but he wasn't. Leaning against the side of the car was a large man with a bald head, wearing a neat black suit and mirrored sunglasses. He wasn't overweight, but seemed to be built from pure, rock-hard muscle, the suit doing nothing to mask the solid muscles underneath the fabric. "Louis, this is Ms. Sarah and her brother, Master Tobias. They are wards of Mr. Rex," Foster said, as Louis moved to open the back door of the car, nodding at Sarah and giving her a brief smile. "Sarah, Louis is my driver and bodyguard. Upon arrival in the UK, he will take on those duties for you and your brother."

"He-he will?" she managed to squeak, blinking in surprise as she looked from Mr. Foster to the burly form of Louis as he held the car door open for her.

"Yes. He will," Foster said in a quiet tone that spoke of patience wearing thin. "While your own funds are considerable, they are held in trust and thus, are safe. However, Mr. Rex is a man of some…power …and wealth. Therefore he feels it is prudent to protect his assets - both property  _and_  people."

Sarah wasn't sure how she felt about being considered an 'asset', much less the fact that whatever life they were being taken to involved a need for a driver who doubled as a bodyguard. It was all so strange. Frowning slightly as Mr. Foster cleared his throat and looked at his watch, she slid into the back seat of the car, buckling Toby in before wrapping her arm around him. As the car door shut the two of them in, she jumped, her arm tightening around Toby who, unlike Sarah, was having the time of his young life.

"Mr. Foster…um…Sir," he asked as Mr. Foster and Louis got into the car and the engine started up.

Foster looked over his shoulder at Toby, his eyes seeming to have gone a shade of silver, making Sarah shiver as she looked at him. Surprisingly, his tone was gentle as he addressed Toby, "Yes, Master Tobias?"

"Is Mr. Rex…well…is he gonna be like my dad?" he asked, picking fluff off Lancelot.

Sarah felt her breath threaten to strangle her, a lump forming in her throat at the innocent question from the child. Mr. Foster actually smiled, seeming to look fondly at the young boy.

"No one will ever replace your father, Tobias. But Mr. Rex has every intention of making sure you have a good and happy life, just like your father wanted," he said.

At that moment, Sarah could have kissed him for being so kind and reassuring. While he may have been talking to Toby, his words meant the world to her as well. Nodding, Toby snuggled against Sarah, content with what he had been told. Sarah however, was not.

"Um…Mr. Foster… I've never heard my father talk about Mr. Rex, could you…well…could you tell me a bit about him? Who is he? What does he do?"

Turning around as Louis drove, Mr. Foster nodded, "Mr. Rex is the current head of Rexic Enterprises."

"Whoa…" Sarah murmured, trying to wrap her head around this bit of information.

Mr. Foster's lips curled in a slight smirk as he looked at Sarah's shocked face in the rearview mirror. "I see you have heard of them?"

Sarah nodded, swallowing hard, "That's the biggest multi-media corporation in the world."

Nodding, Foster smiled as he continued. "Indeed. Entertainment media is their primary industry, although there are subsidiary businesses that include electronics and publishing. Does that answer your questions?"

"Well, it tells me who he is and what he does, but I still don't understand how he knew my father."

Mr. Foster shrugged. "I handle Mr. Rex's affairs in the UK and overseas, but he needed a lawyer who was well-versed in Internet law in the US, so he retained the services of your father. That is all I really know of their relationship. I'm sure Mr. Rex will give you additional detail should you need it."

Sarah sat back and considered this. Her father…mild, unassuming Richard Williams, was a specialty lawyer for the owner and CEO of the biggest media corporation in the world. Not only that, but they were on close enough terms that her father was willing to ask Rex to be the guardian of his children. Biting her lip, Sarah looked out the window as the car drove past the airport entrance and turned into the guard gate leading to the private airfields. Louis rolled down his window and presented an ID card to the guard, who read it over then pulled an envelope from a box, saying, "Here is your manifest and flight permissions. Please have your pilot buzz the tower when you are ready."

A few minutes later the car pulled up near a sleek private plane, the entry open and stairs placed at the doorway. Turning around, Mr. Foster gave Sarah and Toby a quiet smile. "Shall we get you to your new home?"

Silently Sarah nodded, while Toby practically vibrated with the excitement of his first airplane ride, his first trip overseas and the prospect of this strange new life. Sarah however, wasn't sure about this…about  _any_  of this.

Getting out of the car she looked at the plane, then squeezed Toby's hand.

"Come on feet…let's go," she muttered, before moving forward to board the plane.

* * *

They say home is where the heart is, but Sarah wasn't quite convinced. Sure, Toby was with her still and he was, as far as she was concerned, her 'heart', however that fact alone didn't make Tylluan House home.

Tylluan 'House'.

It sounded like something from a stuffy old public television drama. For her part, Sarah thought it was a bit of a misnomer anyway. This place wasn't a house, it was a proper old-fashioned English manor house. A mansion by US standards. She vividly remembered the surreal feeling she had as Louis drove them up onto the property when they arrived. The driveway itself had to be two miles long if it was a foot, neatly splitting the immaculately manicured front lawn, which was dotted with flower beds, and edged by the forest that surrounded the property. Then there was the house. Built from finely weathered grey-brown stone, the house was massive, with four stories and more rooms than she and Toby would be able to count in a week. It far surpassed anything she expected.

It was like something out of a movie…or a dream.

Mr. Foster led them to the front door of the manor, up the great marble steps at the front, with Sarah and Toby gawking at the immense size of the place. Before he reached the large double doors, a shadow passed behind the beautiful stained glass panels set into the mahogany wood, then the doors swung open. An older woman stood there, tall and prim in her black dress that buttoned high on her neck and fell to below her knees. She wore a watch brooch on her chest, and had a ring of keys hanging at her waist. Sarah swallowed hard as Toby clung to her hand and tried to hide behind her at the sight of the woman. She looked like the wicked stepmother in every fairytale. At that moment Sarah seriously considered grabbing Toby and running as far away from this house as she could get. If the fierce aura coming off this woman was any indication, Mr. Rex must be the Devil incarnate.

Before she could make a move to run, the woman's demeanor seemed to thaw as she gave Sarah and Toby a warm smile.

"Welcome, children…welcome," she said, holding her hand out to Toby who first peeked out from around Sarah's thigh, then reached out and took it with a shy smile. Squeezing his hand she squatted down and patted his cheek. "Aren't you just a handsome little man. Just like your father said….God rest him," she said, then stood up and smiled at Sarah. "And you, you're just as pretty as a picture. Come in…come in."

Mr. Foster smiled at Sarah. "This is Mrs. Brown, she is the head housekeeper for Mr. Rex and will be in charge of you both when Mr. Rex is not in residence."

"Oh now, don't make me sound like some stodgy old jailer, Alyn," Mrs. Brown said with a broad grin. As Sarah looked more closely at her, she could see the laugh lines crinkling around the woman's eyes and lips, and the merry way her blue eyes twinkled, set off by the freckles that covered her face and her rosy cheeks. Relaxing, Sarah smiled at the woman, and was rewarded with a gentle pat on the arm. "You're home now, dear girl. We'll take good care of you…you'll see," she said, gently pulling Sarah and Toby into the front hall of the house.

The front foyer was huge, with a parquet floor that featured a diamond-shaped knot-work maze in the middle of the floor. To the right of the inlaid marble design were French doors leading into what appeared to be a library, as the walls were covered with bookshelves filled with row after row of books. Opposite the library door was a large archway leading into a living room with plush Persian rugs, heavy furniture and a fireplace outlined with an ornately carved mantel. Seeing Sarah's gaze shift to the surroundings, Mrs. Brown chuckled, "I'll give you the grand tour later, dear. Into the kitchen with the lot of you. It's a long flight and I'm sure you're hungry."

Mr. Foster shook his head, "I'm afraid I can't stay. My duties with the children end here, as I must report to Mr. Rex immediately."

Nodding curtly to Sarah, Foster turned and made his way down the stairs, as Louis entered the house and shut the front door.

Covering his mouth with his hand, Louis gave a tired yawn, before turning and lumbering down the corridor toward the back of the house. Mrs. Brown just smiled and patted Sarah's arm again, "Don't mind Louis, dear. He's a man of very few words," she said and began to steer the two of them toward the back of the house, past the huge mahogany staircase leading to the second floor. "So, my dears….we'll get you some breakfast and start to get to know each other, how's that sound?"

At the mention of food, Toby was sold on the idea and Sarah had to admit, Mrs. Brown did make the whole situation seem less surreal and frightening. Maybe she wouldn't regret her decision after all. Turning a corner, Mrs. Brown led them into a large kitchen, bathed in natural light. It was a cheerful, bright place, with a huge stovetop and four ovens, as well as a large dishwasher and two massive stone sinks set under a window that overlooked the back lawn. There was a heavy kitchen table in the middle of the room, with a butcher block top. The table was set for two and Mrs. Brown wasted no time in seating them, tying Toby's napkin around his neck. Turning toward the stove, the housekeeper opened one of the ovens and Sarah's mouth watered as the room was filled with the luscious scent of blueberry pancakes, bacon and eggs.

"I wasn't sure what you liked, so I decided to go with the classics," the older woman said, filling Sarah and Toby's plates, then getting them juice. Once she had them settled, Mrs. Brown sat down next to Toby with a cup of coffee and a happy grin. Reaching over she started to cup up Toby's pancakes, while smiling at Sarah. "So…let's get acquainted shall we?"

Their first meal in Tylluan House was a far more comfortable event than Sarah expected when the door first opened. As they chatted, Sarah learned that Mrs. Brown had been the head housekeeper for twenty-two years, and first maid for fifteen years before that. She began to work for Mr. Rex's father when she was only fifteen. Sarah also learned that Mrs. Brown and Louis weren't the only staff at the house. There were two 'family' maids, one for Mr. Rex and one for she and Toby since they were now 'family'. In addition to the family maids, there were two housemaids, a cook, a kitchen girl, stable hand, gardener, Mr. Rex's valet (who was also his personal driver/bodyguard) and the most recent addition to the household, a nanny for Toby.

The more staff Mrs. Brown listen off, the more unsettled Sarah began to feel.

"I….we…we don't belong here," Sarah said finally, putting down her cup and pushing away her half-eaten breakfast as the enormity of the situation hit her, making her appetite flee.

Gently Mrs. Brown patted her hand, the gesture at once reassuring and motherly. "Dear girl…you  _do_  belong here. Your father was a lovely man. I met him many times when he visited Mr. Rex," she said, her blue eyes shining, before she wiped them with the back of her hand. "Bless his heart, he loved you children. Even if your father hadn't put Mr. Rex as guardian in his will, Mr. Rex would have made the offer anyway."

Sarah's chin wobbled, tears welling up again. She'd go hours without thinking of all that they'd lost, then something would trigger it again. Seeing the pain well up in the girl's eyes, Mrs. Brown slid her chair close to Sarah, pulling her into a warm embrace as the tears started in earnest. Sarah couldn't stop them. She cried out her grief at losing her parents. She cried out the terror of nearly losing Toby. She cried out her fear of the unknown future in the US, which was suddenly replaced with a still unknown future in a strange country and in a strange house. The whole time she cried, Mrs. Brown held her, rocking her gently and patting her back. "Oh my darling child. You've been through so much…with no mum to cuddle you and tell you it will be okay. But it will, my dear. You'll see. You're home now. You just let it all out…"

After what seemed like an eternity, Sarah sniffled, the tears finally exhausted for the moment. Shifting she pulled back, wiping her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater. Toby eased up to her, snuggling under her arm and hugging her around the middle. "It'll be okay Sarah," he said, burying his face against her side as she hugged him.

Rising, Mrs. Brown smiled at the brother and sister, "Come along now. What you need is a good nap in a comfy bed, and you'll feel better about everything," she said, chuckling as Toby nodded and yawned at the same time.

Taking Toby's hand, Sarah followed Mrs. Brown toward the staircase that led to the second floor. "This is holiday week for most of the staff except for myself and Louis," she said as they walked down the immaculate hall with its thick carpet and walls lined with artwork. "The nanny, Ms. Glen, will be here tomorrow morning, but you and I can manage Toby until then, can't we?"

Sarah nodded, exhaustion rapidly catching up with her. She stifled a yawn as Mrs. Brown opened a door and announced, "This is your room Toby, dear." Toby let out a war-whoop and raced into the large room. It was a little boy's dream come true. The bed in the corner was ornately carved to look like a pirate ship, complete with a short rope ladder to climb up into it. There were bookcases and shelves filled with books, toys and games, as well as a full train-table and a rug patterned with roads, lakes, rivers and train tracks to play on. In one corner of the room was a large wooden castle that opened up revealing rooms, including knights, soldiers and all kinds of figures for play.

Racing from thing to thing, Toby was beside himself. "Sarah…look at this! Ohh…look at this! Look at this stuff!" he gasped, then suddenly stopped, his little face falling. "Are you sure this stuff is for me? Mr. Rex doesn't know me. Why would he get me all this great stuff?" he asked Mrs. Brown.

Smiling the woman went to the dresser and pulled out a pair of pajamas just the right size for Toby. "Yes, indeed, dear boy. It's all for you. Mr. Rex himself, picked out the toys and things in this room especially for you, because he thought you'd like them."

Toby grinned again, as he looked around. "Wow…just…wow."

Mrs. Brown just chuckled watching him. When the phone started to ring she handed Sarah the pajamas. "Here dear, you get him changed while I answer that," she said and bustled away.

Feeling a bit numb, Sarah sat on a chair in the corner, pulling Toby toward her as she began to change his clothes. The little boy yawned, but grinned happily at her. "I think it's gonna be okay…don't you, Sarah?"

"Well…Mr. Rex is definitely being generous," she acknowledged, knowing from Toby's petulant huff that this wasn't the answer he wanted to hear from her. "Look, Toby, this is just a lot to take in all at once. I'm glad you're happy…but mostly I'm just glad that we're still together. We're still a family."

Once he was changed, Toby threw his arms around her and gave her a sloppy kiss on the cheek. "We'll always be family, Sarah."

She hugged him back and kissed the top of his head. "That's right, twerp. You can't get rid of me." Standing up, she swung him into her arms, dangling him upside down as she carried the screaming and giggling boy to the bed. With a grunt, she managed to shove him up into the pirate ship, then climbed a little way up the rope ladder to tuck him in, with Lancelot in his arms.

"Sarah…do you think we can make Lancelot a pirate outfit?" the boy asked sleepily.

Smoothing hair from his forehead, Sarah smiled. "Sure…we'll ask Mrs. Brown about it this afternoon. For now, sleep. Okay?"

He nodded and mumbled sleepily, rolling over and snuggling the well-loved bear. "Love you, Sar…"

With a sigh she whispered, "Love you too, Tobes. Sweet dreams."

Sarah slipped out of the room, pulling the door shut quietly behind her, to find Mrs. Brown in the hall. "Did you get him to bed okay, dear?"

"Yeah…he was more tired than he acted," she say, covering her own yawn.

Seeing that, Mrs. Brown clucked. "Come on, dear girl. Let's get you off to sleep too. I'm sure you need a good long sleep after all you've been through," the woman said, turning and opening the door across from Toby's room. "These rooms are yours," she said, moving aside so Sarah could enter.

"Oh….my…." was all Sarah could say as she entered the room. It was as large as Toby's room, but wasn't a bedroom, but a proper sitting room. The carpet was pale rose color with a silken sheen. There was a lovely sofa covered in a rose print brocade of cream and pink, with a pink velvet chair next to it. Under the window was a large work desk with a computer of her very own sitting on it. There was even a piano against the other wall.

"Your father said you loved playing music when you were thinking, so Mr. Rex had that shipped over from Ireland for you," Mrs. Brown said, as Sarah lightly ran her fingertips over the top of the white piano.

Turning to look at her, Sarah frowned, "But…he didn't know until last night that we were coming."

Mrs. Brown just smiled, "Oh…he had faith that you'd be joining our family, dear. If you hadn't agreed on your own, he probably would have flown over to discuss it in person." Opening a door to the right, Mrs. Brown bustled into another room. "This is your bedroom, dear."

Nibbling her lip, Sarah followed the woman into a bedroom that was truly like something out of her fantasies.

The floor was a deep mossy green, with a plush throw rug depicting a mass of flowers at the foot of the bed. A large honey colored bed sat against the wall opposite the door, the four posters carved to look like climbing vines. Over the whole bed hung a semi-sheer canopy of white with flowers embroidered all over it in shades of pink, blue, purple, yellow and green. "It's like a fairy bower," she gasped, lightly caressing the shimmering cascade of embroidered flowers.

Nodding Mrs. Brown smiled, "Your father mentioned that you loved 'A Midsummer's Night Dream'. Mr. Rex thought you might like this."

Sarah looked at her, her eyes brimming again. "I don't understand…how…how can he be so nice? He doesn't  _know_  us."

The housekeeper shrugged as she opened another door, showing Sarah the spacious ensuite, then the deep walk in closet already filled with clothes. "I know what people say about Mr. Rex, Sarah dear. That he's a nasty, vicious man who is cruel and manipulative. And when it comes to his work, I've no doubt that he is just that. But in his private life…with family…and those he cares for and who care for him in return, he is a very generous man. And now, you and Toby are part of that circle of family and friends. So, he wants to be generous, to help you see that you are safe now. You are home."

Leaning against one of the uprights of the bed, Sarah wrapped her arm around it and looked at Mrs. Brown. "Tell me about him? Please?"

Mrs. Brown pulled a nightgown out of a drawer in the closet and handed it to Sarah. "You get changed and I'll tell you a bit…but then I want you to have a sleep. You look ready to fall off your feet, my dear."

Taking the nightgown, Sarah retreated into the dressing room/closet as Mrs. Brown pottered about. "Well, with family and friends he is generous. He loves music and gives the best parties for the holidays," she said, then laughed. "And he loves to dance and sing. Oh dear…let's see…what else. Well, Mr. Rex likes being outdoors when he is home. Says he gets sick of iron and concrete jungles in the city. So, at least for a month or two each year he uproots the whole household to go to the property by the sea in Ireland," she adds, smiling as Sarah comes out of the dressing room in the floor length linen nightgown, trimmed with small bits of eyelet lace. "Ahh…good…we got your size right," she nods in approval, then pulls the covers back on the bed. "I'll leave you to it. You just come on down when you wake up," she said, pulling the door shut as she left the sitting room.

Left to her own devices, Sarah looked around the beautiful sitting room, still feeling vaguely afraid to touch anything for fear the 'real' owner would swoop in at any second. While she was tired, her mind was racing too face to contemplate sleep, so she wandered toward the bookcases, dragging her fingertips over the books. All of her favourites were there, fantasy stories, Celtic mythology, science fiction, the works. Obviously her father must have spent quite a bit of time talking about her likes and dislikes. At that thought, her eyes prickled with tears again, until she shut them tight, randomly pulling a book off the shelves. Opening her eyes again, she smiled realizing she was holding a copy of 'A Midsummer Night's Dream'. She flipped it open and walked back into the bedroom, already losing herself in the familiar words of the Bard.

Sarah walked to the large windows to shut the curtains so she could read in peace and nap. Reaching to pull the curtains closed, she glanced up from the pages of the book to look out the window onto the back lawn of the house, only to gasp, dropping the heavy volume on the carpet as she stared transfixed into the back lawn – a back lawn that was as neat and immaculately tended as the front lawn, with one striking difference.

A labyrinth.

A massive structure of precisely carved bushes of green, their sides dotted with pink and yellow roses. And from her vantage point on the second floor, Sarah had a nearly perfect view of the fountain at the center of the hedge labyrinth, a fountain topped with something that shimmered in the late morning sunlight.

A perfectly formed crystal.


	3. Homecoming

**Ch. 3: Homecoming**

**Author's Note:**  To clarify for a typo in Ch. 1 – Sarah is 17 and in her last year of high school. Yes, this 'technically' makes her underage. But relax…there is a method to my madness. All will come clear in time. For those of you that liked "Dreams, Wishes and Brown Wrapping Paper" this story will definitely appeal to you (tho probably not as blatantly UST driven as that one ;) ) Also, I've written over 10k words in the last 4 days, so don't expect another update for a few days.

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The sight of the hedge maze with the crystal topped fountain in the middle of it was enough to chase any thought of sleep from Sarah's mind. All she could do was stand and stare at it. It was perfect, the clarity seeming to ripple in the morning sunlight, shimmering with an ethereal quality.

Her mind churned frantically as she looked at it. It was just a coincidence. It had to be. 'He' wasn't here, in this world. This was just another reminder that he existed…somewhere. Yes. That's it. That's all it was. Surely. Just a coincidence. A simple reminder not to forget the lesson. A reminder to hang onto Toby tight and do anything she had to do to keep him.

Over and over the litany of rationalization began in a well-rehearsed inner monologue. And it was well-rehearsed, she had said it to herself at least once a month since she returned from the Labyrinth. Every now and then there would be some sort of 'reminder' of 'Him', his kingdom, his people or her adventure. It might be white owl feathers blowing through the air and getting stuck in her hair, or a picture Toby drew that resembled a goblin. The next time it might be the barking of a dog that sounded surprisingly like Ambrosious, or a stone garden statue at the garden center that looked like Hoggle. It was always something small, that no one else would notice. No one that is, except Sarah.

Nothing ever happened with them though. They clearly were not malicious, just… _there_. So, she took them to be a 'nudge' to help her remember to cherish what was really important – her brother. She thought at first it was also a reminder of her friends and tried time and time again to contact them, but the mirror never worked again after that first night. Sarah had lost count of the nights she sat in front of the vanity and cried, calling for her friends, to no avail. On her 16th birthday, when her school 'friends' had conveniently 'forgotten' her party leaving her in a party hall by herself, she sat alone and depressed in front of that mirror and very nearly called 'Him', but his name turned to dust in her mouth before she could say it, afraid of what he might do.

As sure as she was that saying his name would invite him back, Sarah was unsure of one thing – what sort of reception he might give her. After all, she not only destroyed his kingdom, but turned him down and she had read enough fairy tales and myths to know that you don't turn down proposals from kings. That is what he had done, after all. Sadly, she realized that fact two weeks too late, and it took reading through another Shakespeare play for that light to dawn. He had offered her everything. Every dream. Every wish. Every whim. Even himself.

And she turned him down flat.

Sarah wasn't sure how long she stood there, staring at it. It was around 10:30 when Mrs. Brown took them upstairs to their rooms, but Sarah didn't move from the window until the clock on top of the piano chimed noon. Shaking her head, she bent down and retrieved the book, her hands shaking slightly. It was all a coincidence. Nothing more. As she stood, she glanced briefly at the crumpled page from where the book had fallen:

_I'll follow thee and make a Heaven from Hell_

_To die upon the hand I love so well._

Frowning thoughtfully, Sarah smoothed the crushed page, her fingers gently running over the wrinkled words. It was one of her favourite lines, seeming to speak of unrequited love. With a sigh she shook her head, "No…I will  _not_  go down this path. There has to be some logical explanation for this. End of story," she muttered, then dropped the book on the bed and stalked into the dressing room. Sarah pulled on her favourite pair of jeans and pulled a t-shirt from a drawer. Slipping shoes on, she gave her hair a quick brush, then headed out in search of Mrs. Brown.

Sarah figured that the kitchen would be a safe place to start her search, but it was empty. The breakfast dishes were washed and stacked in the rack by the sink. It looked like there wasn't an item out of place, everything neatly put away. From there she began to wander in and out of the rooms on the first floor. She explored the library and the formal parlor by the front door first, marveling at the furnishings. Then she found the main hall and discovered a well-equipped media room and a game room with a billiards table and a video game console. Behind another door on that hall, she discovered a music room that made her fingers itch to sit down and play. There was a full grand piano, as well as various stringed instruments and a saxophone. She marveled at the selection of instruments, then discovered that there were two huge bookcases in that room, one containing sheet music neatly put into binders and labeled, the other holding row after row of records. Shaking her head she wandered down the hall toward the other end of the house. As she walked, she started to pay more attention to the artwork on the walls. There were lots of historical pictures that she assumed were of the village that Tylluan House overlooked, but there were very few modern photos. The rest of the artworks were paintings of people, landscapes and even animals. But nowhere did she see any personal photos. There weren't even any photos of Mr. Rex with famous people, and she was pretty sure that those sorts of pictures had to exist…somewhere. In fact, there really wasn't anything anywhere to indicate the man actually lived there. None of the personal touches that made a house feel like 'home'.

At the end of the hall she found another door, heavier than the others. She went to knock then laughed at herself. There wasn't anyone in the house except for herself, Toby and Mrs. Brown. Shrugging she turned the door knob, expecting the door to be locked, but it swung slowly open revealing a large, richly furnished office.

His office. Mr. Gareth Rex.

It had to be.

Nibbling her lip she peeked inside, unable to convince her feet to carry her over the threshold of the room. Sure, no one else was here, but there was something about this office that just felt, forbidding. In the center of the huge room, facing the door, stood a massive desk that looked like it weight a ton if it weighed an ounce. The desktop was neat, with three leather paper holders, one atop the other. There was a black leather blotter in the middle and a banker's lamp. In front of the desk were two leather chairs, and the sides of the room were filled with floor to ceiling bookshelves. Other parts of the large room were filled with smooth leather sofas, chairs and ornate throw rugs, the sheen of which suggest they might be real silk. Set between two large bookcases on the wall to the right of the desk was a fireplace, the front of which was covered with an intricately cut ironwork grate depicting two unicorns facing each other, with a stylized sun balanced on their horns. Pursing her lips, she consider that. It wasn't the sort of thing she imagined finding, but was lovely all the same.

Behind the desk was a large bay window overlooking the back gardens. Peering out office window from her spot in the doorway, Sarah saw that it had the same view of the hedge maze that her room did. For some reason, that thought made her shiver a bit.

Squelching the unsettling feeling, she turned and pulled the door shut behind her, then made her way back to the main stairs. As she walked up the heavily carpeted stairs, she trailed her hand over the silky smooth wood of the bannister, wood so highly polished she could see her reflection in it. At the top of the stairs she paused. Her rooms and Toby's were to the right, along with a bunch of bedrooms that weren't used, so there was no use going down there again. At the top of the stairs was a set of French doors, shrugging she moved to them and pushed them open, then whistled in wonder.

It was a ballroom. An honest to God ballroom.

Almost reassuringly, it was nothing like the ballroom from her Labyrinth adventure. Instead of a confection of white and crystal, this ballroom was more 'traditional'. The floor was inlaid parquet, with an elaborate knotwork design ringing the room, and a family crest in the middle of the floor. The walls were covered in a brocade design. Slipping into the room Sarah lightly caressed the wall and smiled. It was not just brocade, but silk velvet, just like her step mother wanted for their dining room at home. This thought made her breath catch in her throat as a flood of memories slammed into her. She dropped onto the sofa near the door and shut her eyes tight, fighting to control her breathing until the feeling eased. Slowly she regained control and opened her eyes again.

Taking a deep breath she resumed looking around the room, padding silently across the lovely floor to inspect the crest. Just like the grate in Mr. Rex's study, the crest had two unicorns, balancing a flaming sun on their horns. Careful not to step on the image, she side-stepped around it and went to the balcony at the back of the room, peering out to see that it was lined up perfectly with the entrance to the hedge maze in the back garden. As she stood there, she couldn't help but notice how lovely the maze looked, with the flowers scattered on the hedges and the midday sunlight making the fountain in the center seem to glow from within.

Sighing, she shook her head and left the ballroom, then turned toward the hall to the left of the stairs. The first door she tried on this hall was locked, as was every other door that she tried going down that hall. While the doors were locked, there was something here that she hadn't found anywhere else in the house – portraits.

They started almost as soon as she entered the hall, large oil portraits of people that she could only assume were the Rex family ancestors. As she walked down the hall, she inspected the pictures. By and large, the Rex family was quite attractive, so Mr. Rex was swimming in a good gene pool, she thought with a giggle. Some of the men had merry, laughing blue eyes, while others looked strict and austere. The women were mostly blonde, with petite, waifish figures and delicate features. At the end of the hall she hoped to find a portrait of Mr. Rex, but the last painting had a date of death well before Mr. Rex had to have been born – 1930. As she looked at the last door of the hall and contemplated opening it she was startled when someone spoke.

"You shouldn't be here."

Whipping around she saw Louis standing in the hall, his burly body filling it.

"I…ah….I was looking for Mrs. Brown," she stammered.

Louis shook his head with a quiet frown. "This is the family's wing. No one is allowed in these rooms except the family and Mr. Rex," he said, his low voice rumbling in the quiet hall.

"Yeah…fine…I-I'll um…go to my room. Sorry," she said, creeping past him and hurrying from the hall and back to her rooms.

At 2 Mrs. Brown knocked on her door and bustled into the sitting room, finding Sarah curled up on the sofa staring out at the maze, the copy of Shakespeare open in her lap. "Oh good, you're up dear. Didn't want you to sleep too long or you won't sleep tonight," the older woman said with a warm smile. "I'll go get your brother up and we'll get you two some lunch and a tour of the house.

The woman swept out of the room and Sarah didn't have the heart to tell her she had already gone on a 'self-tour'. Sarah followed along as the woman got Toby up and dressed, then ushered the two children down to the kitchen and set about feeding them. As they at, Sarah finally worked up the courage to ask some of the questions that were bugging her after her exploration of the house.

"Mrs. Brown… I'm wondering…is there anything significant about the labyr…I mean…the hedge maze in the back yard?" she asked, sipping her lemonade and trying to act nonchalant.

The woman smiled and put down her mug of tea. "Well, it doesn't seem the sort of thing Mr. Rex would have, and it isn't really his thing. It was built by his great-grandfather, as a wedding present for his wife, Phillipa. She loved mazes and puzzles. My mother was just a little thing with it was finished. The Rex family had a huge party for all of the village to show off the structure. She said it was wondrous thing for that time."

"Oh…" Sarah said, oddly feeling a bit disappointed rather than relieved to find out that Mr. Rex didn't have anything do with it. Shaking the feeling off, she ate a bit more then asked, "So, when do we get to meet him? Mr. Rex that is."

Mrs. Brown sighed, "I honestly don't know, dear. He's off in London at the moment working and the last I was told, he wouldn't be back for another week at least. But I'm sure he'll get back to meet you as soon as he is able."

Two weeks later he had still not shown up or sent word of when he'd arrive. In fact, aside from the letter that arrived with Mr. Foster and the contract, Sarah hadn't heard a word from the elusive Mr. Rex. Although Mr. Rex was absent, Mrs. Brown did her best to make sure Toby and Sarah were looked after. The nanny Ms. Glen showed up the day after they arrived and took care of Toby most of the day, which left Sarah time to explore and read, although she spent most of her time either helping Mrs. Brown in the kitchen or playing the piano in the music room.

Then one morning, while Sarah and Toby were eating breakfast in the kitchen with Mrs. Brown, the kitchen phone rang. Wiping her hands off on her apron, Mrs. Brown picked it up, "Hello? Oh…good morning, Sir…..Really? Yes, of course your rooms are ready. Is Mr. Foster staying?...No…okay… yes, I'll make the arrangements. Dinner in the family dining room at 6. Yes, Sir. Have a safe drive."

When she hung up she smiled at Toby and Sarah. "Well, today is the day, it seems. Mr. Rex will be arriving sometime this afternoon and you two are to have dinner with him tonight."

From that point on the day was a blur of activity and worry. Sarah spent much of her day in the kitchen helping the cook and Mrs. Brown prepare dinner, as well as baking various cookies and cakes that Mr. Rex apparently liked to have on hand when he was home. She was a little surprised to learn that he had a hell of a sweet tooth. After the fifth batch of cookies and the third cake, she was starting to wonder if he looked a bit like Orson Wells or something. Finally she decided that he must be a very large man if he ate like this regularly.

In between cutting cookies and rotating trays in and out of the oven, Sarah's mind was filled with an ever churning ball of worries. What if Mr. Rex didn't like her…or Toby? What if they didn't get along? Would he be strict? Was he boring? Would he be someone she could confide in? Would he treat Toby like the father the little boy needed? What if…what if…what if.

At 4 Mrs. Brown shooed her from the kitchen. "Go on, dear. Go have a bit of a rest and a bath before dinner," she said, wiping her hands off on a tea towel hung over her shoulder. "Mr. Rex usually has a drink before dinner in the salon next to the family dining room. Since you're old enough, you could meet him there. Ms. Glen will bring Toby there right at 6," she added, then waved Sarah toward the hall door. "Go on…off with you. And don't go telling Mr. Rex that I let you help all day. No telling what he'll say about that and we don't want you starting off on the wrong foot with him."

Nodding Sarah took off toward her rooms, curling up on the window seat in her bedroom and watching the little gardener tending to some flower beds on the back lawn. She didn't think she was tired, until she woke with a start an hour later, cursing as the clock chimed 5.

"Shit! I'm running late," she grumbled, hopping off the seat and stripping on her way to the bathroom.

In 45 minutes she managed to have a quick shower, dry her hair, put on light make up and get herself down to the salon. As she reached the door, she slowed down and tried to catch her breath, not wanting to appear out of breath if he was already there. She nibbled at her lip and brushed a stray strand of hair from her face, the other side caught back with a silver hair clasp that had been on the dresser in her room. Her hand smoothed down the navy blue dress she wore. The lightweight material flowed with her as she moved, without being 'clingy' thanks to the classic styling, that was reminiscent of the 1950s – with a high neckline, belted waist and a-line skirt. She had paired it with a simple pair of navy flats and pearl earrings that mimicked the dainty white polka dots that were scattered all over the material. Mrs. Brown had helped her pick out the dress earlier in the day and she was glad of the housekeepers help. After all, it wouldn't do to show up to dinner with Mr. Rex, one of the most powerful CEOs in the world, wearing jeans and a t-shirt.

Taking a deep breath she opened the salon door then breathed out in a rush. The room was empty. Steeling herself she entered, looking around. She had explored this room the first week she was in the house. It was essentially a place designed for 'waiting'. Like much of the house, this had a masculine feel, being dominated by dark woods and dark colored leather.

Sighing, Sarah stood by the windows at the back of the room, staring out at the deepening grey of dusk as it settled over the house. While she didn't live in the city in the US and wasn't exactly used to loud noises at all hours of the day, she was still getting used to just how still and quiet Tylluan House got at night. Being so far removed from cities and towns, when night fell, silence descended like a heavy veil over the land. The only sound at night was crickets and the occasional animal. The first few nights there, Sarah just lay in bed and stared at the ceiling, the deafening silence keeping her from sleep. It was so unnerving that she had taken to sleeping with her CD player on, just to have some background noise.

"Ah, good evening," said a crisply accented voice from the door. "I didn't expect anyone else to be in here."

At the sound of that voice, Sarah's blood ran cold. She recognized it. At least she thought she did. But no. It couldn't be. Slowly she turned around, and gasped, her eyes wide as she looked at the man in the door way. He looked like he had just stepped out of a 1950s advertisement, in an impressively tailored, double-breasted suit of black, with grey pinstripes. All he needed was a fedora and it would have been perfect. Then she looked at his face and felt her knees threaten to buckle. His hair was short and slicked back from his face, but there was no mistaking the sleek angles of his jaw and cheekbones, nor the steep arch of his eyebrows. Even without the makeup and the long hair, she saw him for who he really was.

"You….y-you're HIM…you're the Goblin king," she murmured in shock.

"No. I am Gareth Rex," he said with a sly smile as he entered the room.

"No. No. You're not. I can see it. You're Jar…You're Him.

"When I am here, in this world, in this guise, I am Gareth Rex," he replied, his lips curling in that characteristic smirk of his.

Gulping hard, her hands curled into fists at her sides. "You… y-you can't take Toby….I won't let you," she said, her voice shaking despite the defiant tilt of her chin.

With a quiet smile, he enters the room further crossing toward her, as she backs into a chair. "But you forget, Sarah…I already have him. And you too," he says with a soft chuckle, gesturing around. "This is my house. You are my wards. The deal is done."

"No…no…it's not possible….it can't be…" she muttered, looking around frantically. "I beat you….I won…you…you can't be here…" Sarah insisted, her breath starting to come in pained gasps as her lungs tightened, threatening to suffocate her.

As the wheezing got louder, Jareth's look of amusement turned to concern. Reaching out he gently took her elbow, guiding her to sit in the chair.

"Breathe, Sarah," he said, his tone quiet but firm, ignoring the way that she flinched when he touched her. "I'm not going to hurt you. Why on Earth would I go to all the trouble of rescuing you only to hurt you?"

"Res….cue…" she panted, shaking her head frantically. "You….di-din't…res…cue….me."

"As always, Sarah, I did exactly as you wished. I saved you from your nightmare. You wished it. I granted it. Isn't that generous?" he said, squatting low next to her chair to look her in the eye.

Her eyes glistened with tears as she helplessly shook her head, "No…you….you're…you're…oh God…I can't…" she gasped as the panic in her caused her chest to tighten further. "Can't….breathe…." she whispered, then broke free from his light grasp. She stumbled across the room, running into Mrs. Brown and Ms. Glen bringing Toby in.

"Sarah?" asked Mrs. Brown in surprise as Sarah pushed past her, wheezing and running toward the stairs. "Sarah dear…what's wrong."

Jareth sighed as he stood up, "Give her a few minutes to compose herself, Tess," he said to Mrs. Brown. Smiling at Toby he held out his hand, "While Sarah settles down, why don't you and I get acquainted, Toby."

Shyly, Toby took his hand, "How did you know everyone calls me Toby," he boy asked.

Taking a knee next to Toby, Jareth gave him a conspiratorial wink, "Why, my boy…we are old friends, you and I."

Toby tilted his head and looked at the man in front of him, getting a sudden flash of a similar man singing and dancing. "You remind me of someone," Toby muttered.

At this Jareth laughed and pulled Toby close into a hug. "We're going to get along /just/ fine, Toby lad. Just fine."

* * *

Sarah burst into her sitting room, slamming the door behind her and scrabbling to lock it. Once she was locked in, she caught a glimpse of the window, and the crystal at the center of the hedge maze. The crystal shimmered with orange and pink tones from the setting sun, the sight making her wheezing increase in her panic. Oh God…she'd seen the signs, but didn't take them seriously and now it was too late. Gasping and clawing at the neck of her dress, she peeled it from her body and threw it across the room toward the fireplace, then ran into the closet. With a panicked whimper she tugged her jeans on and grabbed a shirt from her suitcase, laughing hysterically when she realized it was the same full-sleeved linen shirt she wore through the Labyrinth.

"Appropriate," she gasped, trying to calm her thoughts and her breathing.

Dressed in clothes that hadn't come from 'Him', she started to calm down enough to think, pacing the sitting room as she tried to formulate a plan. She needed to figure out what was going on. What evil was Jareth up to. She had to get Toby away. Yes…run away. That was the ticket.

Before she could come up with how to get away, there was a knock at the sitting room door, the handle jiggling as someone tried to get in.

"Sarah…dear, open the door. Please," called Mrs. Brown.

"No. Go away," Sarah shouted, backing away from the door.

"Please dear…I know you're upset about something. Let me help," the housekeeper tried again.

"No…you're in it…with…/Him/," she yelled back as the door handle jiggled again.

"Look, dear…let's discuss this over a nice cup of tea. You don't have to eat with Mr. Rex and Toby, you can eat in the kitchen with me. Like you have been," she tried again. "Just you and me, dear."

"I'm not hungry!" she cried out, backing into the piano.

She stared at the door for several minutes until she was sure that Mrs. Brown had gone away. When she was sure she was alone again she collapsed onto the sofa with a sob. She'd have to get Toby away from him. That was the only option.

* * *

"Toby…come on. Wake up," Sarah whispered softly was she shook her little brother. "Please. Wake up."

Mumbling Toby cracked and eyelid and peeked at her, "Wha…what time is it?" Then he looked around. "Sarah…whatcha doing? It's the middle of the night."

"Come on, Tobes, get up. We're going on…a trip. But we have to go now," she said, pulling him up and starting to strip off his pajamas before he had even fully woken up. She tugged a t-shirt on him, then managed to wrestle him into his jeans before sitting him down and putting shoes on him. "Stay here," she says, and grabs his backpack, then digs into his closet to pull out some spare clothes, before helping him put the bag on.

Taking his hand, she pulled him toward the door to the hall, "Shh…we have to be /very/ quiet until we get outside. It's a big game of hide-and-seek, Tobes. You want to win don't you?"

The sleepy youngster nodded as his sister peeked into the hall, then led him to the back servants' stair case leading to the kitchen. When they get to the kitchen she pauses and tucks some fruit and fresh bread rolls into her back pack, along with some chocolate bars, then grabs Toby's hand again. She motions him to be silent as she hears footsteps creaking overhead, then relaxes as they stop.

"Let's go," she whispers and opens the back door, quickly leading Toby out before shutting it quietly. Breathing a sigh of relief at getting out of the house undetected, she starts to quickly walk Toby down the side of the house, walking through the grass to avoid leaving footprints or making sound on the gravel path. As they reached the front of the house she peered around the corner, pleased to see that the lights were off except for the one on the front steps. She pulled Toby along after her toward the building off by itself – the large garage. Sarah wasn't fully convinced that stealing a car was the best way to go, but she didn't have much choice. Toby couldn't walk the 6 kilometers into the village and no one there would help them if they did. She needed the car just to get them to the nearest city, then they'd ditch it and find another way to get London, and back home.

Reaching out to open the side door into the garage Sarah froze.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you, Sarah," Jareth said from behind her.

Sleepily Toby looked up at her, "We lost. Can I go to bed now?"

Groaning, Sarah turned around, feeling her face burn at the sight of Jareth/Gareth standing there in what appeared to be his pajamas - sweat pants, a tight t-shirt that clung to his chest, and a light robe. Louis stood beside him, shaking his head almost sadly.

Jareth walked toward Toby and held out his hand, which the child took, clutching Lancelot in his other hand. "Lost what, my boy?" he asked.

Yawning, Toby shrugged. "The game. Sarah said we were playing hide-and-seek. You found us….so I guess we lost. Huh?"

Jareth gave Sarah a hard look, which made her cringe, her gaze falling away from his. "Yes, my boy. The game is over now. You can go to bed." He stood up and passed Toby's hand to Louis, "Please take him back inside and get him back to bed, Louis. You may wake up Ms. Glen if you feel the need help."

Louis nodded silently and smiled warmly at Toby, starting to lead him back toward the house. "No!" Sarah said, lurching toward Louis and grabbing Toby's hand from him. "Leave him alone," she protested, turning to face Jareth. "You took him once, you can't have him again. I won him  _back_!"

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jareth sighed then looked at her. "Sarah, this is not the discussion I wanted to have with you upon my arrival home, much less in the middle of the night. Let the poor boy go back to bed. He'll be perfectly safe. I promise."

Frowning, she glared at him, "After everything you did to me, how do I know I can trust you?"

Jareth's eyes narrowed as his patience started to wear thin, "No matter what you may think of me or my motives, I cannot lie, Sarah. Not about this. So believe me when I tell you, Toby will be perfectly safe in his bed. No harm will befall him at my or any other hand."

"Your word," she insisted. "I want…your vow."

His mismatched eyes flashed with irritation, but he nodded. "Fine. You have it. If anything happens to him, now or ever under my roof, the contract is null and void. Happy now? Please let the child go to sleep, Sarah," Jareth growled, the smooth accent becoming clipped in his frustration.

Reluctantly Sarah let go of Toby, with Louis looking sadly at her. Shaking his head again he took Toby's hand and like a gentle giant, led the boy back toward the house.

"As for  _you_ , Precious," Jareth hissed, his voice low and firm. "Despite the lateness of the hour, I think it is time you and I had a little…chat."

 


	4. Coming to Terms

**Ch. 4: Coming to Terms**

_Jareth's eyes narrowed as his patience started to wear thin, "No matter what you may think of me or my motives, I cannot lie, Sarah. Not about this. So believe me when I tell you, Toby will be perfectly safe in his bed. No harm will befall him at my or any other hand."_

_"Your word," she insisted. "I want…your vow."_

_His mismatched eyes flashed with irritation, but he nodded. "Fine. You have it. If anything happens to him, now or ever under my roof, the contract is null and void. Happy now? Please let the child go to sleep, Sarah," Jareth growled, the smooth accent becoming clipped in his frustration._

_Reluctantly Sarah let go of Toby, with Louis looking sadly at her. Shaking his head again he took Toby's hand and like a gentle giant, led the boy back toward the house._

_"As for you, Precious," Jareth hissed, his voice low and firm. "Despite the lateness of the hour, I think it is time you and I had a little…chat."_

"I have nothing to say to you," Sarah protested, cringing at the weak sound to her voice.

Jareth chuckled, his eyes flickering to silver in the moonlight. "Be that as it may, I have things to say to you, as there are things you need to understand about your presence here and what is expected of you."

Her green eyes went wide at the idea that something was 'expected' of her and she blanched. He could see her processing the possible meanings of that. The paleness slowly turned to a tinge of crimson and she blushed, a sight which made him smile as it was a far more promising reaction than he had expected. As he watched her fidget uncomfortably, a crunching sound echoed from around the side of the house as Mrs. Brown hurried out.

"Sir? Is everything all right?" she asked as she caught up with them, her fluffy pink robe clutched around herself. Turning concerned eyes toward Sarah, she continued, "I saw Louis with Toby. Are you and Toby okay?"

Sarah opened her mouth to tell the woman in no uncertain terms that they were absolutely  _not_  okay, but Jareth silenced her with a stern look, her mouth snapping shut with an audible click.

"They are fine, Mrs. Brown. Just a bit of a misunderstanding on Sarah's part. One we will remedy at once," he said smoothly, his tone quiet and authoritative. "Please escort Sarah to my study, I will be there momentarily to speak with her."

"But Sir…it is nearly 3 in the morning," Mrs. Brown frowned in disapproval. "Can't it wait until the morning?"

He looked at Sarah, her green eyes filled with distrust and fear, then he shook his head. "No, I'm afraid it has waited long enough," he replied, then smiled quietly at the housekeeper. "Please Tess. Take Sarah to my study, then prepare us a small tray since she missed dinner."

Sarah visibly bristled at this, but he pinned her in place with a hard look. "You  _will_  wait for me in my study, Sarah. It is high time you understood the full impact of your situation."

Mrs. Brown took Sarah's elbow, the girl flinching but not pulling away. "Come along dear, let's get you out of the night air. And you too, Sir. Neither of you is dressed to be out in this damp chill."

Jareth couldn't help but smile at the motherly way she gave orders, even to him, something he never let his own subjects get away with. "Yes. I will be in momentarily. I want to make sure things are locked up first."

Nodding, the older woman guided Sarah toward the house, the girl looking briefly at him over her shoulder. He could see the questions in her eyes and sighed. This was not going to be an easy discussion, but there were things she needed to know. Her life was about to change, whether she liked it or not.

And he had the contract to prove it.

* * *

Sarah when Mrs. Brown opened the door to Jareth's study. "Well, go on dear. I'll bring you a lite supper in a few minutes, she said, nudging Sarah into the room then shutting the door before disappearing down the hall. With a disgruntled sigh, she waited until she could hear Mrs. Brown leave the hall, then reached for the door.

"Honestly, Sarah," Jareth said from the far side of the room, his tone hard. "Why must you disobey every little request?"

Frowning she turned around, crossing her arms over her chest as she glared at him. She didn't need to ask where he came from, she knew. Stupid bloody Fae and their magic. He stood by the window, not evening looking at her as he peered out over the hedge maze in the back yard. Slowly he turned around, and looked at her with a bemused expression.

"Please sit down," he said quietly, gesturing toward the chairs in front of the desk.

"I'd rather stand."

Jareth's eyes flashed darkly at her continued defiance. As he waved his hand to move her himself, he saw her flinch. Instead of transporting her, he flicked his wrist toward one of the chairs by the desk. The next instant it slid over to her and knocked her behind the knees, forcing her to sit in it as it moved back to its place. "I do not recall asking whether it please your  _Highness_ ," Jareth replied with a hard stare. "That was an order and in this house, you are expected to follow orders. Consider this lesson one."

Gawping at him, Sarah tried to get up from her chair but found she couldn't. "It's not fair," she muttered, struggling against the invisible force holding her in the chair.

With a soft laugh, Jareth settled into his own chair and looked at her across the expansive top of the desk. "I see you are still under the impression that life should be fair," he said, the stormy expression of a moment earlier fading to one of amusement and disbelief. "I would have thought that your little trip through my kingdom would have disbused you of the notion, my dear."

Finally giving up on moving, she glared at him opening her mouth to speak when Mrs. Brown came bustling into the room carrying a tray. Jareth arched an eyebrow at her, as if daring her to speak, but she didn't, instead thanking Mrs. Brown as the housekeeper set the tray on the desk between them. '

"There, that should hold you both over until breakfast," she said, nodding at the contents of the tray. "Mind your tongues though, that soup is hot," she added, sitting mugs of creamy chicken soup in front of them. "There's a bit of sandwich for each of you and some cookies," she chuckled, nodding at 'Mr. Rex', then winking at Sarah. "Silly man is convinced it isn't a meal if there isn't dessert."

Sarah watched as he gave Mrs. Brown a warm smile, his blue eyes shining with affection. Her lips pursed as she realized he looked at others like that, Toby and Louis…but not her. Somehow, the realization that he was fond of Toby but not her hurt, leaving her stomach aching as if she had been punched.

"Thank you, Tess. That will be all. I'll take care of tidying this up when we are done having our chat," he said.

Mrs. Brown patted Sarah on the shoulder, startling her, "Now you be a good girl and eat up. I'll hold breakfast until 9 in the morning since you'll need a bit of a lie in after being up so late."

Jareth nodded in agreement, "Thank you, but please feed Toby when he gets up. I want him kept to his normal schedule. I don't want anything between Sarah and myself to disturb his new life," he added, giving Sarah a dark look that made her squirm a bit in her chair.

Smiling, Mrs. Brown waved good night and shut the study door behind her, leaving Sarah and Jareth alone once more. With a frown, Sarah pushed the mug of soup away, refusing to look at Jareth. Shrugging, he picked up a sandwich and dunked a corner into his soup, then bit into it, seemingly ignoring her. After a few minutes, he finally spoke.

"Really Sarah…aren't you a bit old for the petulant child routine? You should eat," he said in a conversational tone. "The food isn't poisoned if that is what you are worried about."

She grumbled as she looked at him, "I know about the Fae and their food. And I don't trust you, even if you  _are_  in this realm."

Jareth laughed at that, the sound bouncing warmly off the walls of his office, "Oh…you are precious sometimes, Sarah."

"I hardly think it is funny. Everyone knows that eating fairy food means you are trapped there," she muttered, slouching in the chair as much as the magical force holding her would let her.

"Precious girl, it is funny because it does not apply to you. For one thing, Mrs. Brown made the food, using Aboveground produce and methods. She is not magical and to my knowledge does not know about me or my family. So in that way, her food is safe. And as for the 'rules', they are both erroneous and no longer apply to you or Toby."

Biting her lip, Sarah though this over, "Wait…no longer apply to me? Why….Because of that stupid contract?"

"Well, the actual rule is that to eat Fae food ties you to the kingdom forever, making you Fae-marked. And since you and Toby both ate while in my lands, you are already marked," he said matter-of-factly, then calmly resumed eating as he waited for her to register the impact of what he said.

"I…we…didn't…." she protested, then went pale. "Wait…the peach! You had Hoggle feed me that poisoned peach!"

"Now, now…don't go exaggerating, my dear. It was hardly poisoned, Sarah. Believe me, if I wanted you dead, I assure you, you would be," he laughed, making her frown deepen.

He couldn't help but smirk at the almost audible growl in her voice, "You cheated…you fed Toby. That isn't fair! He was a baby…he didn't understand what he was doing."

"And you did?" Jareth chuckled? "As I recall, you ate the peach willingly enough. It isn't as if I had tied you down and forced fed you."

Jareth couldn't help but crack a smile at the way she both looked furious and blushed at the same time. The blushing in and of itself was endearing in a way, to know that he had an effect on the girl in some way. However, considering his carefully chosen words, her reaction was far more promising.

"Well…okay…maybe I did. But you still forced Toby," she insisted, puzzled at the serious look that came across his face as he shook his head.

"No, Precious. I am many things, but I do not 'force' children to do anything. I do not 'harm' children."

"Hah!" she barked, giving him a dark look. "You forced me into your sick and twisted game. Then you set the cleaners and Humungous on me. So don't lie, Jareth. You did plenty of harm."

His look turned hard and cold at that. "Let's get some things straight right now, Sarah. I do  _not_  lie. I am Fae and royalty, I am incapable of lying to a human. Secondly, you were not a child when you wished Toby away. You knew full well what you were doing when you said those words. Not only that, but you had had your first moon bleed by then, which meant that by the laws of my kingdom, you were a woman, not a mere child."

At his words she turned crimson. Jareth could read the look of desperation and embarrassment on her face at that. He sighed, quelching the desire to laugh at her reaction. Humans were so touchy and squeamish about simple biological functions that the Fae didn't think twice about.

"How….how did you know that," she almost whispered, her voice cracking.

He waved off the question, "It doesn't matter, Sarah. The fact is, you were not a child."

"No…really…how did you know?" she insisted. "What sort of sick pervert are you?" she asked, anger seeping into her voice. "Were you  _spying_  on me?!"

Jareth growled inwardly. Gods! The girl tried his patience. Every time he tried to show her some bit of compassion she would insult him in some way. It was really too much.

"Enough! No, I was not spying on you, Sarah. Believe it or not, you are not as interesting as you may think!" he snapped. "If you  _must_ know, Fae are quite sensitive to smells. When you were running the Labyrinth, I could smell the iron on you and knew your time was again near. As for Toby, the child was hungry and I marked him as my heir the moment he set foot in the throne room, so feeding him was no longer an issue."

"You cheated!" Sarah huffed at this, "I won him back. You had no right to mark him until you knew the outcome of the game."

It was Jareth's turn to frown at the unhappy memory of losing his heir. "Sarah, no one had beaten the Labyrinth in a millennia. For you to win was wholly unexpected. Thus, I was within my right to mark him the moment he set foot in my throne room," he replied, breaking a sugar cookie sprinkled with silvery sugar crystals into pieces and biting into one. "The fact of the matter is, you were both Fae-marked before you were returned to your home."

"So, what did that mean?" she muttered with a frown.

He shrugged. "Marking you just meant that should any other Fae encounter you Above, they would know that you were being protected by the Goblin Kingdom. In essence, you were marked as wards of the crown," he replied, nudging the other sandwich toward her.

Sarah shook her head, but finally lifted the cup of soup, sipping a bit of the hot liquid. She drank quietly a moment, then sighed, a defeated look settling on her face, her green eyes troubled and sad. "So what…you killed our parents to get revenge?" she asked, tears shimmering in her eyes.

Jareth felt a pang of hurt that she would think he could do that, then swallowed it. He had played the villain to her heroine too well, it was the only role she knew for him. While he knew her question was understandable, it still hurt. Shaking it off, he shook his head.

"No, Precious," he said softly, flicking his hand and offering her a handkerchief which she surprisingly took. She scrubbed roughly at her eyes and smearing the remains of the make-up she had been wearing earlier, as he sighed. "No…your father was a good man. In returning you to your home, as you were marked, I needed to retain some connection to you to ensure your continued protection. So, I sought out your father for legitimate reasons. He was very knowledgeable in his field which tied well with my Aboveground businesses," Jareth said, his own blue eyes tinged with grief. "If I could have stopped the accident, believe me Precious, I would have. But to meddle in the affairs of the Fates is a nasty business, which would have had negative consequences for you and Toby, as well as your parents."

With a hitch in her voice she whispered, "Was the will real? Or…. Just an elaborate ruse?"

"It was real, Precious," he said quietly. "Your father asked me to act as your guardian on his last visit here."

Her green eyes sought his, a tear slowly trickling down her cheek. She rubbed the tear away with her sleeve. "Dad…he'd…been here?"

Jareth nodded. "Yes. He enjoyed his time here and planned to bring you, your step-mother and Toby for a visit next summer, as a graduation gift for you."

At this news Sarah's tears burst forth, sliding easily down her face. "It isn't fair," she sniffled softly.

For once, he didn't tease her about it. In his own heart he felt the unfairness of it too, and if he could have fixed it, he would.

"No, Precious Sarah, it isn't. But, what's done is done. I did as your father asked and assumed the guardianship for you and Toby."

She nodded, crying softly for several long minutes. Jareth stood up and went to the window, giving her some measure of privacy for her grief.

"So why the need for a contract, if we are already wards of your kingdom?" she asked finally, wiping the last of the tears from her face.

Jareth pursed his lips, steeling himself. This was the question he had been waiting for. She had signed over more power than she knew – he was so much more than their guardian.

Sarah watched him slowly turn around and lean against the windowsill, his blue eyes seeming stormy grey in the dim light near the window. She didn't feel afraid of him, but the odd look he gave her made her stomach clench. There was something about that look that made her wary.

"The contract was necessary because you are so near the age of adulthood in the Above. I needed your consent to take Toby and you as my wards here," he said, his tone even and quiet. "I did not want there to be any question of my motives where the authorities here are concerned."

She frowned slightly, thinking over what he said.

"But if we were already marked as wards of the Goblin Kingdom, couldn't you just take us there?" she asked.

"I could have, yes." He replied, giving her his characteristic smirk. Twisting his wrist and conjuring a crystal, he chuckled as she cringed, "Why? Do you want to go there? You have but to ask, Sarah."

It was her turn to shake her head, and she did – somewhat frantically he thought ruefully.

"No. No. Um…thanks," she stammered, giving a slight laugh.

Jareth smiled, "The fact is, I'm not as much of a monster as you think, Sarah. You and Toby had suffered a great loss. I did not think it best for either of you, to rip you away from your whole world. That said, the contract applies both in the mundane world and the magical realm. You signed it willingly, giving yourself unto my guardianship until your 21st birthday," Jareth said, choosing his next words carefully as he gave her a dark smile. He had been waiting for this and his moment was at hand. "Giving me  _power_  over you."

Sarah's face fell as his words hit her, a look of disbelief settling in on her features.

"Oh no…" she gasped, shaking her head.

"Oh yes, my dear. You both belong to me. And as such, there are rules that must be followed," he added, his smile widening as his eyes flashed darkly, a feeling of triumph shivering through him as he looked at her. The girl may have beaten his Labyrinth, but he had won in the end. And no matter what she thought, the game was not yet over. There was more at stake than she knew. Far more.

"Rules?" she managed to squeak, her hands tight on the arms of the chair.

"Indeed. Rules. Firstly, I expect obedience," he replied, sitting back down in his desk chair and sipping his tea as he waited to see her reaction, secretly pleased when the fire lit in her eyes. He was sure she would have jumped to her feet if she hadn't been held fast in her chair by his magic.

"Fuck off!" she snapped struggling against the chair again.

He couldn't help the cruel smile at her outburst. Oh yes, she was going to hate him soon enough, and he was going to savor every minute.

"Yes, Princess…rules," he laughed.

"Don't call me  _that_!" she hissed, glaring at him. "I'm not your 'Princess' and I'm not going to obey you, Jareth. You can't ask me to do whatever sick and perverted things you come up with and expect me to actually  _do_  it!"

He struggled not to laugh. Really, she was making this far too easy and he hadn't even begun to toy with her yet.

"Firstly, if you are going to act like a spoiled princess, then I will call you that. As for  _ordering_  you to do whatever is in my head, I think it is  _you_  who keep coming up with the sick and perverted ideas, not me…since it is  _you_  who keep using that phrase," he snapped in response, his eyes flickering with dark laughter. "Unless you would  _like_  me to give you perverted and twisted orders?"

Sarah sat there, her mouth opening and closing while she blushed. Eventually she just shut her mouth and shook her head, settling for glaring angrily at him.

"If you are quite finished making assumptions as to my motives,  _Princess_ , I'd like to finish so we can both get to bed," he said, rolling his eyes at the look of hate and fear that came from her at his words. "In our  _own_  beds, Sarah dear. Honestly. It seems that you are the one having impure thoughts, not me." That stopped her cold, her eyes dropping as she flushed hotter. "Now then, I expect obedience, end of story. You are to do what you are told when instructions are given to you for your own welfare or Toby's. I will not instruct you to do things that will harm you or Toby. Your safety is my key concern. Understand?"

Sarah nodded mutely.

He hadn't planned on giving her too many rules for the moment, as it wouldn't do to overwhelm her, but her responses were so lovely he couldn't resist teasing her a bit further.

"When you are in this room and we are alone, particularly when you are in trouble, and believe me Princess, I am anything  _but_  pleased with your behavior tonight, the correct response to a question of that kind is 'Yes, Majesty', or "Yes, Sir'," he said, his tone firm as his eyes narrowed sternly. He was pleased to see her cringe a bit, shrinking down into her chair. "Say it," he demanded quietly.

"Yes, Jareth," she muttered, defiance creeping into her posture and face once more.

Jareth gave a frustrated sigh, while chuckling inwardly. Although she was blatantly disobeying him (still), he did rather like the way she said his name.

"I'll let that slide…for tonight. In future, I won't, however. You see, failure to obey from tonight on, will result in punishment," he said, with a smooth smirk at the flash of indignation in her eyes.

"You wouldn't  _dare!_ " she hissed, her jade eyes wide in surprise.

He leaned over the desk, "Yes…I would. And I will. Consider yourself warned, Sarah. I've been generous up to now, but I can be cruel. And you, my dear, are pushing your luck."

Her face screwed up a bit as she stared daggers at him, to such a degree that he made a mental note to ban her from helping in the kitchen anymore, as he wouldn't put it past the angry minx to try to poison his food.

"How," she demanded, spitting the word out as if it burned.

He shrugged, "Punishment will fit the crime. Something like calling me by the wrong name, might find you sitting here all evening writing lines while I work." Smiling at the way her eyes narrowed angrily, he added, "I can be  _most_  inventive, Sarah. So I suggest you just do as you are asked."

Jareth was torn between being pleased when she visibly bristled, but didn't reply, and being slightly disappointed that she was giving in so easily.

"So, obedience is expected or punishment will be awarded," he said conversationally. "When it comes to Toby's well-being, Ms. Glen takes her orders from me. As his family, I am always willing to listen to your ideas, but I  _am_  the final word in this house. Is that clear, Sarah?"

She nodded, no longer looking at him. He chuckled to himself but let it slide for tonight.

"As to your schooling," he continued, noting the way her head snapped up. "I have enrolled you at the local private academy. Louis will take you and pick you up each day – unless I am in residence, in which case I may do so."

"But I drove my own car at home," she protested.

Jareth shook his head, "Be that as it may, your actions tonight show me that you can't be trusted with a car just now, Sarah. Really? Did you even think about the potential consequences you would face for  _kidnapping_  the ward of one of the most powerful CEOs in the world?" he asked with a frown. "You could have been facing legal charges and put in jail, silly girl."

"He's my brother," she muttered.

"And he is my ward…at the moment, dear girl, my authority over your brother trumps yours. You'd best remember that if you ever think about doing something so inconceivably stupid again. As for that, if you find that you want to run away, know this…" he said, leaning over the desk and pinning her in place with a hard look. "You are  _mine_ , Sarah. I will  _always_  come for what belongs to me. Make no mistake. There is nowhere in this realm you could hide that I would not find you."

She nodded, swallowing hard.

"Good. I'm glad we understand each other on that point. Now then, back to the matter of your schooling….I know what your grades were like, and I expect you to keep them up here just as you would at home. You will be expected to participate in the usual sorts of activities, but I reserve the right to suggest or veto any proposed extra-curricular activities," he added.

Sarah's frown deepened again, "I don't do extra-curriculars."

He laughed. "Don't lie to me, Sarah. Your father frequently bragged about your accomplishments in music and sports. I have already enrolled you in the high school orchestra and field hockey try-outs are next week. You  _will_  be going."

Her expression darkened, but she said nothing, and Jareth had a pretty good idea what she was picturing doing to him with her field hockey stick. Sighing he glanced at the clock. 4:15 in the morning already and he wasn't through going over things with the girl. With a flick of his wrist he adjusted it back and hour. Sarah muttered softly as she watched the hands swirl backwards.

"What about Toby's school?" she finally asked.

"As my ward and heir, Toby won't start at the local academy until he is 6. For the next year he will be schooled by Ms. Glen and other tutors as needed," he said with a shrug. He watched as she nodded, seeing the fight seeming to leave her as weariness settled in, he should get her to her bed soon. "As far as other rules go, those are the most important. Above all, I expect you to take care of yourself and Toby. Keep both of you safe and well, whether I am home or elsewhere, Sarah," he said, a hint of gentleness creeping into his voice. "When I come home after being away, I will expect you to report to me in the salon before dinner and tell me how things went while I was gone. Furthermore, whenever I am in residence, I expect you to eat with me. No more excuses."

She frowned, but nodded, her cheeks twitching visibly as she stifled a yawn.

"Good girl. Now, finish the soup at least and get some sleep. You will be going into London with me tomorrow to get things you'll need for school. So be up and in the dining room by 9," he said, casually conjuring a crystal and tossing it at the tray of half-eaten food, making it disappear with a soft popping noise.

Pursing her lips she tried to get up, surprised when she was able to stand. Sarah sighed as she walked to the door of his study and opened it. As she stepped over the threshold, she paused and turned around. "You may have the contract, Jareth…but this doesn't mean you've won. You will  _never_  have power over me, not really."

He gave her a wicked smirk, swirling a crystal on his fingertips.

"Ahh…that is where you are wrong, Sarah dear," he chuckled, flicking the crystal at her. "Because I do."

Starting to protest, she gasped when she suddenly found herself tucked in her bed dressed in one of the buttery soft linen nightgowns from her closet.

"Bastard…" she muttered, thumping the pillow irritably as she slid further under the covers.

"I heard that," she heard him say, the sound whispering around her, as she pulled the covers up to her ears. "Good night, Precious."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**  As always...thanks for reading and reviewing. I love seeing what everyone thinks is going on and the comments! :)


	5. I Can Be Generous

**Ch. 5: I Can Be Generous**

Sarah couldn't breathe. She tried and tried but the air was thick and hot, refusing to inflate her lungs. Gasping, she struggled to open her eyes, a film of white shrouding her vision. She tried to scream, the sound catching in her throat as she fought against the bindings keeping her from the air her lungs so desperately craved. Finally managing a half-strangled scream, she clawed at the shimmering white, ripping material dripping with glittery crystals from her face, only to look around in horror. She was back in the Labyrinth, her body tightly encased in the silvery white confection of a ball gown from the peach nightmare, the bodice squeezing her chest and keeping her lungs from inflating. All around her, the dancers from the ball continued to swirl around the crystal ballroom, a ballroom that had fallen into a state of disrepair. Curtains hung limp and torn from the columns, stains of age turning them an ugly shade of grey. The once decadent garb of the dancers, was now threadbare and falling apart, hanging limply upon decayed and rotting bodies. Yet still they swirled in their macabre dance, cackling and laughing at her, as the eerie music seemed to seep into her bones, making her ache to move with them and join the dance.

Grunting as she tried to breathe, she fought her way through the throng of bodies, trying desperately to avoid touching them, but they reached out to her, grasping and clawing at her body, tearing strips from the shimmery dress and drawing blood where they scratched her. A flash of deep blue teased her from the corner of her eye. She whipped around, looking for him, but he was gone. As she paused to search for him again, the dancers closed in, the cackling growling louder and louder. With a whimper she realized she was pinned in, a press of rotting flesh surrounding her as red-headed courtier leaned in close, her words like dried leaves crackling to dust ,"You belong… to… ussssssss…. Saaaaaraaaaaahhhh." She tried to scream, terror flooding her body but no sound came as the rotting corpse of the dancer sucked the very air from her lungs. "Daaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaance…..with….ussssssssss…."

* * *

Sarah woke with a start, her lungs burning as she gasped and wheezed, fighting to breathe. Grabbing blindly for the nightstand she knocked things from the top as she tried desperately to find her inhaler. For the love of God…where was it?! She always laid it on top. Her wheezing worsened in her panic, as her vision began to narrow.  _Oh fuck…this can't be how I die…_ she thought with a sob. A moment later she felt the cool mouthpiece slipped between her lips, and a warm arm pulling her back to lean against a firm chest.

"Inhale…Come on, Precious," came the quiet voice behind her, as she heard the inhaler being depressed.

No matter how much she hated him and the idea of doing anything he told her, when she heard the inhaler depress, she couldn't help but obey. She inhaled deep, coughing as she tried to hold the mist in her lungs, then slowly exhaling. As her lungs began to work, she coughed harder, dimly aware of a warm hand, firmly rubbing and patting her back, just like her father used to when she had a bad asthma attack in the middle of the night. That thought made her chest ache for an entirely different reason, her eyes welling up. When the coughing settled, she felt the inhaler being pressed to her lips again and automatically wrapped her lips around it. "Again," he ordered quietly, pressing down on the little metal canister. She breathed in the mist, her lungs inflating further this time, as she was able to hold it inside. When she finally exhaled, she felt the hand again, rubbing her back as he hummed quietly, a melody her father used to hum when she woke up with bad dreams. Unable to help herself, she started to sob. It was too much. Too damn much. She hurt. Her heart hurt. Her lungs hurt. Her brain hurt. And she was so tired of hurting.

Jareth didn't say anything, there was no need. Instead, he simply held her as she cried, her tears hot against his chest as they seeped through his shirt. No matter what she may think of him, he was not the cruel monster she assumed him to be. He had his quirks and wasn't above being a bit of a bastard to her for fun, but he didn't like seeing her in this kind of pain. The blasted girl might have defied him at every chance, then turned him down flat when he offered her everything…including himself, but even then, he didn't want to see her suffer – not like this at least. He could not only feel her heartache rolling off her, he could smell the anguish in her tears, the smell like ashes and graveyard dust, dry and cloying at the same time.

Over time, she shifted in his arms, wrapping her own arms around his chest. He was surprised at first, then heard her as she cried, choked words drifting to his ear. "Daddy… why….I told you…stay home…why didn't you listen?! My fault…should've done something…made you stay…" she sobbed against him. Jareth felt his heart ache for her, at the realization that she blamed herself. Gently, Jareth rocked her, quietly singing a lullaby his mother used to sing to him when he was a small boy. One day he hoped to sing it to his own child. While she was most certainly not a child, the tears being shed were those of a girl who desperately needed comforting. So for now, this night, he sang it for her. As the sweet melody continued, he felt her begin to relax, the sobs softening to quiet tears. When the tears dried up, he felt her gentle breathing against his chest, the slow, deep breaths of one on the edge of sleep. Before he could think better of it, he kissed the top of her head, "Sleep, Sarah. No dreams," he murmured, feeling her fall limply into sleep as the magical command took effect. He hated doing it, but she needed it, a peaceful sleep with no dreams to haunt her or disturb her. Carefully Jareth laid her down, tucking the covers back around her, then brushing stray tendrils from her face.

"Oh my Precious girl…what  _am_  I going to do with you?" he sighed, then shimmered, disappearing from her bedside.

* * *

Sarah woke to a knocking on her bedroom door, the sound jarring her from sleep. "If that's you Jareth, you can fuck off," Sarah growled, pulling a pillow over her head and burrowing back under the covers.

The door opened and Mrs. Brown swept in, sitting a mug of tea down on the nightstand. "Well, I don't know any Jareth, but I hope he thinks you're cute if you talk to him like that," she chirped far too cheerfully for the hour, at least in Sarah's opinion. "And you'd best not let Mr. Rex catch you with any boys in your room, or there will be hell to pay."

Processing this in her still half-asleep state, Sarah giggled. "I'd like to see Mr. Rex beat up Jareth. That could be good fun," she snickered, earning a puzzled and slightly disapproving look from Mrs. Brown.

The housekeeper shrugged, then opened the curtains. "Mr. Rex is up already. He told me to move your breakfast until 9:30, but make sure you were up by 8:30," she said, pointing at the tea. "That's to help you get moving. Don't keep him waiting for breakfast. It's his favourite meal of the day, but he won't start until all of the family in the house are present, and for now, that means you."

Sarah growled to herself at the gall of the man, as she picked up the tea and sipped it. Mrs. Brown threw open her closet and started going through the clothes. "You're heading to the city with him, so you'll have to dress appropriately," she said, pulling out clothes and laying them on Sarah's bed.

"I'll pick something out myself today," Sarah replied, wrinkling her nose up at the sundresses and skirts the older woman was laying out.

Mrs. Brown looked skeptically at her, "Are you sure? Mr. Rex has certain standards of dress he likes to have held."

 _I'll wear what I bloody well like and 'Mr. Rex' can go fuck himself if he doesn't like it_ … Sarah thought to herself, while smiling warmly at Mrs. Brown. "I know. He covered that in our 'chat' last night," she lied.

Nodding, Mrs. Brown hung the clothes back up, then headed toward the door. "Remember, 9:30 sharp. Don't make him wait, he won't be happy," she warned, earning a shrug from Sarah. Shaking her head the housekeeper left, the girl would learn – the hard way if need be. And if Mr. Rex was anything like his father had been when it came to disciplining those in his care, it was likely to be a painful lesson.

Once Mrs. Brown left, Sarah took the tea into the bathroom with her and started to get ready for her day out with 'Mr. Rex'. If she was honest with herself, she was torn where it came to 'Gareth'. On the one hand, she was angry that she had stupidly given him complete power over her and Toby's lives. On the other hand, he really did seem to have Toby's well-being in mind, so that was a good thing since he also had the means to make sure Toby got the best of everything. Then there was the way he came to her rescue last night – although she still had some questions about that, most pressing being how he knew she was in trouble.

Sighing, she stripped down and went to step into the shower, before her eyes fell on the mirror. She noticed the way it seemed to ripple in the light and frowned. Grabbing a towel Sarah wrapped it around herself, then climbed up on the counter top to drape another towel over the mirror.  _Just in case he gets any ideas…_  she thought with a satisfied nod. He might have played 'knight-in-shining-armor' last night, but that didn't give him a free pass. She still didn't know what his motives were and didn't trust him. Until she was satisfied his motives were on the up-and-up, she intended to be very careful in her dealings with him. And as far as his 'rules' were concerned, well...she had every intention of making him rue the day he thought he could rule her or her life.

* * *

"You're late," Jareth said, not looking up from the newspaper he was reading, as he sat at the head of the breakfast table in the sunroom. "You were to be here 15 minutes ago."

Shrugging, Sarah sat down at the place set for her, dropped her napkin in her lap and the casually poured a cup of coffee for herself. "I slept late," she replied, sipping the coffee and ignoring the way he glared at her, one sculpted eyebrow arching sternly.

"And tell me,  _Princess_ , just what part of our conversation last night made you think pushing me this soon was going to be a good idea? I let your actions of last night slide, but I thought I made it clear that would be the last time."

"It's 15 minutes, Jareth," Sarah grumbled. "Not the end of the world."

"True enough, however my orders were quite clear and I know for a fact that Mrs. Brown woke you at 8:30 this morning," he replied, folding the newspaper up and sitting it aside, frustration etched on his face.

Jareth knew he was pushing her, but she needed something to rail against instead of letting herself sink into sadness, and it might as well be him. Sighing inwardly, looked at her and felt a pang of worry settle in his heart. She had no idea just how different her life was going to be with him, not just Aboveground, but eventually Underground, and he knew she was not in the right place mentally or emotionally for him to tell her the whole of it.

He had no choice but to continue to play the villain, while preparing , he was somewhat enjoying the way she pushed back and didn't really want to break her spirit, but things were going to be different for her now and she needed to learn that early on – coddling her would make things far worse. He watched Sarah as she pointedly ignored him, while Mrs. Brown and the kitchen girl came in, carrying plates of food. No matter what she may think of him, his help in this situation was given freely –no matter what the stipulations of her father's will said. Jareth couldn't stand to see her lose Toby when she fought so hard to keep him when she was younger, and the two siblings had already lost so much, each other was all they had left.

Sarah scowled pointedly at him as Mrs. Brown bustled around the large table.

"Oh good, you're here, Sarah," the housekeeper said, sitting a heavily laden plate of crepes, eggs and bacon in front of 'Mr. Rex'. "Sir, as you won't be here for the midday meal, did you require anything special in regards to dinner tonight?"

Jareth shook his head as he picked up his fork. "Nothing special tonight. Please make sure Toby is fed at his usual time. Sarah will take her evening meal with me," he said, not taking his eyes off Sarah as he spoke, and somewhat relieved that the girl had good grace to look a bit sheepish while she picked at the plate that the kitchen girl, Anna, put in front of her. "We'll take a light supper in my study tonight, Mrs. Brown."

The housekeeper nodded, shooing Anna from the room. "Very good, Sir. I'll tell cook."

When Mrs. Brown and Anna left the room, Sarah's frown deepened as she poked at her eggs. "I don't see why I can't eat in the kitchen with Toby. Why punish me by making me eat with you?"

Jareth sighed irritably, clearly the girl had not been paying attention to all he said last night.

"Dining with me is  _not_ the punishment for being late, we'll deal with  _that_  later. As I told you last night, Sarah…when I am in residence, you will take your meals with me, as is fitting someone of your age and status in a house such as this," he added, picking up his flatware and starting to cut into his breakfast. "Furthermore, when I am at home, you are to be in my study at 9pm every night for an accounting of your day –including granting rewards for good behavior and punishments for bad."

Her silverware clattered against her plate as she dropped them, looking at him in disbelief. "You can't be serious, Jareth."

Ignoring her he continued, "When I am not at home, I expect you to ring each night at the same time, but all rewards and punishments will wait until I return. And another thing," he said, fixing her with an icy stare, "When the staff and others are around, you are to call me Gareth or Mr. Rex. Am I making myself  _perfectly_ clear?"

His tone was quiet but stern, as was the expression on his face. Sarah was struck by a feeling she couldn't quite identify, but without thinking she heard herself say, "Yes, Sir."

"Much better," he said, his tone thawing as he smiled at her, his demeanor thawing as well. "Now, eat. We have lots to do today to get you ready for classes to start next week."

Sarah pushed her breakfast around her plate a bit, still wondering at the feeling that came over her. She thought for a moment he had manipulated her with magic, but the feeling was different from the way he pinned her to the chair the night before. This was something else, she just wasn't sure what. Finally she swallowed a bite and asked, "Are we staying the night in London?"

Jareth gave her a puzzled look, "Why would we do that?"

"Well, it's a 4 hour trip. There and back is 8 hours," she muttered, suddenly wondering if she had the math wrong from the way he looked at her. "So…um… we'd have to stay the night if we are to have any time for shopping."

He smiled and went back to eating, "We aren't taking the car today, Precious."

As he said that she heard a loud whirring at the front of the house. Startled she went to get up, but stayed in her seat as he didn't seem to be the slightest bit worried by the sound.

"Helicopter, Sarah. Now eat," he simply said, returning to his newspaper as he ate.

Sighing, Sarah started to eat as her stomach gurgled. Rules. Punishments. Cranky Goblin Kings. And helicopters on the front lawn. What next, she wondered. It was all just a bit much.

* * *

Sarah couldn't believe her eyes as she stood on the small wooden pedestal set between three mirrors and took in her reflection.

"You're kidding me," she grumbled, turning around to face Jareth who lounged in an arm chair dictating a letter to his secretary via the phone. "What is this? Some anime school?"

Jareth couldn't help but laugh at that, covering the mouthpiece of the phone as he did so. In truth, she did look a bit like an anime schoolgirl in the short plaid skirt in shades of blue, green and black; a plain white shirt, navy tie and green blazer, complete with a golden crest and buttons, adding to the look.

"On the contrary, Sarah dear. This is one of the best academies for young women of means in the country. Many of your classmates are sent here from other regions of Europe as boarding students."

At this her eyes lit up, "Could I board too?"

His lips curled as he grinned at her, having anticipated this question coming at some point, just not so soon. Shaking his head he hung up the phone, then said, "No, I want you where I can keep an eye on you and make sure you stay out of mischief," he chuckled.

Sarah huffed, turning toward the mirrors again.

"I don't see why not. What sort of mischief could I get up to? I'm sure if these girls are as privileged as you say, then the school is probably quite strict…and that's what you want isn't it? To suck all the fun out of my life by being strict?" she grumbled.

Jareth rolled his eyes. "Don't be so dramatic, Precious. I am not trying to suck the fun out of your life. But your circumstances have changed significantly in the last few weeks. You have new responsibilities and expectations as a member of my family, and I want to help you grow into them."

She looked at him in the mirror, her green eyes flashing petulantly. "Can't this fancy pants school handle that? I don't want you helping me grow into anything. Besides, the minute I'm of age and can take care of Toby on my own, we're gone. Adios. See ya. Buh-bye!" she said, waving at him in the mirror.

He sighed then frowned. "Firstly, while the school  _could_  handle turning you into a proper young lady, appropriate for my social circles and dealings in  _this_  country, I have diplomatic duties in other  _realms_  that they cannot prepare you for."

Sarah opened her mouth to interject at that, but one hard look from her to the seamstress, and she shut her mouth. He could see the questions in her green eyes and knew she not only understood his reference to other realms, but would likely ask numerous questions later. Nodding at her, he smiled his approval and continued. "Therefore, I want you where I can tutor you as needed so you don't embarrass yourself or me. Furthermore, as per the contract, once you reach 18 you can be free of me but Toby remains in my care until he reaches 18, you will become his guardian, but I will retain the authority over his schooling. Your father wanted to make sure he had the best preparation possible." Her frown deepened, until he reminded her," Besides, if you boarded you would not be able to see Toby every day. Doesn't seeing him daily balance out having to put up with me when I am in residence."

Sarah sighed, turning again on the pedestal to face him, much to the dismay of the seamstress. "And just how often will that be," she demanded, her hands on her hips as she glared at him.

Jareth bit back a smile at the delightful display of fire. "Not as often as you might think. My affairs in London and 'abroad' will keep me away several weeks a month, sometimes longer."

This news seemed to please her and she smiled, spinning around again and earning a frustrated, "Will you please keep still, Miss?!" from the steamstress.

"Oh…um…sorry," she muttered, as Jareth snickered behind his newspaper.

* * *

"But I like it!" Sarah pouted, stomping her foot.

Jareth blinked again at the shocking purple hair on her head with the white stripe down the side, not sure which to respond to first, the ridiculous and wholly inappropriate shade her hair now was, or her childish behavior.

"Absolutely  _not_ ," he said, shaking his head, his eyes narrowing as he looked at her, his arms folded across his chest. "I specifically told you  _no_  outrageous colors when I dropped you off. You deliberately disobeyed me on this. For one it is completely inappropriate to your station and forbidden by the student guidelines of the academy."

"Screw the academy," she griped, watching his face carefully. She knew he was unhappy, but just how unhappy he was, was hard to tell. From the ticking of the muscle in his jaw, she figured she was pushing him close to the edge. Stomping her foot, she glared at him, "And screw you too! It's my head. You may have me bound to you by that damn contract, but my body is still mine."

Judging from the way his pale eyes darkened to nearly black, she realized she had found the line between 'pissed' and 'abort mission', and apparently danced blithely across it.

"Janine, please excuse us for a few moments. My ' _ward'_  and I need to have a little chat," he said to the hairdresser who had done Sarah's hair. The girl scuttled from the room in a hurry, and Jareth moved to it, locking it.

Sarah cringed as the bolt slide home. He turned slowly and walked toward her, his eyes flashing at her, shifting from black to purple and back. The intensity of his gaze made her shiver deep in the pit of her stomach, as she instinctively found herself backing toward the wall. Yes, pushing him this far had been a mistake. "Okay…I'm sorry," she said, biting her lip.

"Oh no,  _Princess_ ," Jareth hissed, his voice every bit that of the fearsome Goblin King she had met in the Labyrinth. "You know the rules. What's said, is said."

Gulping she backed into a chair and sat down. Bending over, Jareth placed his hands on the arms of the chair and pinned her in place.

"Now, let's get a few things straight, my girl," he said, his tone still low and cold. "You are in  _my_  care. You have effectively become a representative of one of the most powerful families in the Aboveground, as well as Underground. This color of hair is unseemly both here and below."

As her petulant frown deepened, he decided she needed to realize just how serious her disobedience was – for her own good.

"It's fine up here…" she started to protest, but stopped when he shook his head.

"True, your academy would merely send you home until you changed it and I can change it with a wave of my hand if I so wish. However, I was giving you the chance to pamper yourself…within reason. That said, you are now also a citizen of the Underground, Sarah and purple hair is a  _big_  problem."

"It's not that big of a problem," she grumbled, trying to sound more confident than she felt.

He shook his head, then stood back, releasing his grip on the chair. "Fine then. If you know so much. Strip," he ordered.

Her green eyes widened as she clutched at the pale pink robe she was swathed in. Okay, she  _may_  have occasionally dreamt of him telling her that, but this was hardly what she expected. "Do what?!"

"You heard me full well, girl. Take off your clothes. Now," he ordered. Seeing from the look of confusion and fear on her face, he was pleased to know that he had her attention finally, so much so that it was a struggle to keep his expression hard and unyielding. "Underground, only pleasure slaves for royal use have purple hair. It is a sign of their status. You've made your intentions known and don't want to let me guide you otherwise. So... Strip."

Sarah shook her head, hanging on tightly to the robe.

"Oh? So you don't want to be a pleasure slave for royal use?" he asked, his tone a quiet purr that made her stomach quiver for reasons she wasn't sure she wanted to investigate.

When she shook her head again, Jareth nodded and smiled.

"Good. I'm glad you understand me a bit better now, Precious. No matter what you may think, I do have your best interests at heart, so you really need to start listening to me," he said, moving and unlocking the door.

Sarah nodded, relaxing as he moved away.

"Your body is yours, Sarah. From the top of your head to the tips of your toes, but I do hold authority over you, so by that, it is also partially mine. At times I may tell you to do things because they are important for your safety or to make sure you represent yourself appropriately, but I will never give you an order that will hurt you - even if I am reigning you in or removing some of your autonomy. Understand?" he said, his eyes shifting back to their pale blue as he smiled quietly at her.

She nodded again, fidgeting as she suddenly felt very warm and was sure her face was red. "Yes, Jareth."

"Good girl," he said, turning from her and walking toward the door. "Although the foot stomping and deliberate disobedience will be addressed later this evening," he said, then opened the door to speak to the stylist. "Janine, I believe Sarah regrets her unfortunate choice of color, why don't you girls consider something less drastic, but still individual, like burgundy highlights as a compromise?" he suggested, before poking his head back into the room. "I'll be back in two hours to pick you up, Sarah. No more silly antics," he said, then disappeared from the room.

* * *

Ordinarily Jareth detested travelling in the Aboveground. Common Fae lore in this realm would attribute that to being surrounded by so much iron, but being of royal blood, he was more or less immune to the iron sickness that might plague other Fae who spent much time Aboveground. No, he just hated the crowded, dirty streets and the whole 'uncivilized' nature of it.

Flying however, was another story all together.

One of the first things he did when taking over as the CEO for his father's media empire was to make sure he had a personal helicopter at his disposal. If he couldn't adopt his owl form and fly, then a helicopter seemed the next best thing.

As the pilot steered away from London, Jareth relaxed into his chair, careful not to disturb the brunette who was now asleep on his shoulder – and he couldn't blame her. It had been a tiring day, even for him.

The day was a whirwind of shopping and other appointments, but despite it, it was far more enjoyable than he had originally expected. While he had a reputation Underground of being something of a peacock, Aboveground he really didn't like spending much time shopping for mundane things like clothing, however watching Sarah give him a fashion show, complete with making 'supermodel-esque' turns and strange faces, was quite amusing. More than once she managed to get him laughing at her antics, which resulted in several genuine smiles on her part. At one point she tried to argue about the sheer number of dresses he was having her try on, searching for those that were appropriate for meeting his clients and other formal affairs. He was pleased when she addressed him properly again, and amused when she objected to the amount of money he was spending. "I have been generous, Precious…because it pleases me to be so," he all he said, waving his hand for the sales girls to bring more dresses for her to try on.

Jareth now peered at her as she slumbered against him. Whether she realized it or not, she was starting to thaw a bit toward him. And what he said was true – he could be generous, just as he could be cruel. Surprisingly, despite her deliberately pushing him on the matter of rules this morning, she hadn't stayed a surly teen all day. In fact, after the hair salon she was remarkably relaxed and seemed to be enjoying herself for the first time since she had first seen him at the house. She really was lovely when she smiled, especially when it was directed at him.

Shaking his head, Jareth frowned to himself. It was no use going down that train of thought. While he might tease the girl a bit, he had no intention of acting on it unless she showed interest – for one thing, she was still too young and for another, her final words to him. "You have no power over me." He may have regained power over her in many ways, but her body… was still hers.

For the most part at least.

Oh, there were things he would do to her if he needed to if it suited him. Pinning her in her chair the night before was one such thing. It wasn't malicious, but necessary. He knew Sarah and she would not have stayed still to hear him out. No, he would not force himself on the girl, not intimately – he wouldn't need to. Someday, she  _would_  come to him, willingly and of her own volition. Of that he was sure.

First things first, he had to deal with her behavior at breakfast and the matter of dying her hair. Sighing he looked at the sleeping girl. She looked so peaceful as she snuggled against him, but he was quite sure that by the time the evening was finished, she would not be so happy around him.

But damnit…he had warned her there would be consequences for disobedience and consequences there  _would_  be.


	6. Ch. 6 - I can be so cruel

**Fifty Shades of Fey**

**Ch. 6: I Can Be Cruel**

**A/N:** Yup… this is the chapter many of you have been waiting on. For those who like sex with their kink, that won’t happen for awhile yet (Sarah *is* underage at this point), but it will happen later. This chapter lays the groundwork for some later aspects of their relationship. Enjoy! J

* * *

The helicopter landed at the side of Tylluan House just after 7pm, causing Sarah to wake when it ‘bounced’ slightly on the grass in landing. When she realized she was leaning against Jareth’s shoulder, she blushed, sitting upright and brushing hair out of her face. Seeing a wet patch on his shoulder she rubbed her lips where she had been drooling.

“Um…sorry about that. I must’ve been way tired,” she muttered with a sheepish grin, while Jareth smiled at her.

“That’s quite all right, Precious. Did you have a good nap?” he asked as the pilot secured the aircraft. His smile broadened when she blushed further and nodded, in a vain attempt to hide her face.

“Yeah, thanks,” she said, going to grab for some of the bags that were stowed in the back of the helicopter.

Jareth shook his head, “Leave them, I’ll have Louis come retrieve them and bring them up for you. Go on up and relax. We’ll take dinner at eight o’clock in my study.” He smiled a bit when her face fell. “Eight …sharp. I trust you won’t be late this time?”

Sighing Sarah nodded, “Fine. Eight,” she said, then trudged toward the house as Jareth got out of the helicopter.

He watched her until she was inside the house and the pilot had retreated to the hangar office. Once he was left alone, he let his human façade fade away with a silvery shimmer. Stretching as he felt his body shift to his true form, Jareth spread his wings and took off, hooting low at the feel of the air currents pushing upward on his wings as he beat them. Each powerful swipe of his white wings carried him higher into the cool evening air, making his heart soar with his feathered body.

On a night such as this, a proper flight was just the thing to work up a healthy appetite for one’s dinner. He only hoped the cool air in the sky would help clear his head so he could focus on Sarah – and her punishment.

* * *

 

Sarah was torn.

For the last ten minutes she had been arguing with herself while pacing in her parlor, her eyes glued to the steady ticking second hand of the white marble clock on the mantelpiece.

_Fuck him! If he thinks I’m going to roll over and play by his rules, he is sorely mistaken….._

_But…punishment…what the Hell did he mean by that? Is he going to ground me? Fat lot of good that will do, I’m already stuck in this damn house. It isn’t like I have any friends to go do things with, and no car either. What’s he going to do? Send me to my room? Good! Then I don’t have to be around him._

_I suppose he could say that I have to spend all of my free time with him…_

Then a small part of her mind spoke up… _Would spending your free time with him really be that bad?_

While that part of her was in the minority, Sarah felt herself blush at the thought. As much as she hated the power he now had over her, there was something about that stern look he got at times, and the way his voice would drop into a hard, purr that set her stomach fluttering and her heart racing.

Shaking her head, she growled at herself. “Snap out of it, Sarah! He talks a good game, but he isn’t interested. He’s a fucking King. He could have any woman he wanted and some 17 year old isn’t it. He’s only doing this because of the will. He’s just toying with you because he _can_ ,” she muttered, slamming her hand down on the piano keys in a discordant clash of noise.

She had made up her mind…punishment be damned. Jareth may be in charge of Toby, but she wasn’t some child. She wasn’t going to let him push her around.

 _Besides…punishment might mean spanking_ …. Suggested that tiny part of her mind with a lascivious smirk.

Sarah felt her face burn and her stomach quiver at the thought. Surely he wouldn’t. Would he?

 _A better question is --why don’t you want him to…_ whispered the part of her that she was trying desperately to ignore.

Groaning she, glanced at the ornate clock. Two minutes to eight. Even if she left now she was going to be late, but only a little. Sarah stomped toward the door, throwing it opening then slamming it shut hard enough to shake the painting on the wall in the hallway. She was only going to be a ‘little’ late this time, but it was the principle of the thing. Two minutes. Ten minutes. The length of time didn’t really matter. But defying him did.

Sarah slowly made her way down toward Jareth’s study, becoming oddly aware of the number of clocks this house seemed to have, all of which were reminding her that she was about to flout his orders once more. The old manor was settling for the night, with no sound save for her footsteps, the slight sighs and groans of the house, and the seemingly deafening ticking of every clock she passed. Shoving her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans, she hunched her shoulders, her head falling forward. Suddenly, she didn’t feel as confident about her decision to be late as she had been in the relative safety of her room.

As she reached the bottom of the main stairs, the gigantic mahogany grandfather clock in the entryway began to toll the hour. One gong. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven….then it seemed to pause for a short eternity before the last gong sounded. Eight.

She was officially late.

* * *

 

Jareth watched the clock as it struck eight and frowned. He had thought that he and Sarah had come to an understanding about rules and obedience, but clearly, Sarah had other ideas.

 _Blasted girl…why must she defy me at every turn?_ He thought, pursing his lips as he drummed his gloved fingers on the desktop. Getting up from his desk he shook his head and growled to himself. He had planned to go easy on her since this was her first night dealing with the new ‘regime’ so to speak, but since she had decided to ignore his orders yet again, he had no choice but enforce them more firmly. He checked the clock again, his frustration growing as her lateness increased. As he poured himself a drink from the special bottle in the back of the cabinet, he considered having a clock appear to her reminding her of the time, but thought better of it – that would only remind her of his role as the villain in their first meeting, a role he was trying to get her to see was not who he really was – unless it was called for at least.

At two minutes past eight, there was a soft, hesitant knock at the study door, followed by a second. He flicked his fingers at the door so that it opened before she had need to even touch it a third time.

“Come in, Sarah,” he said, his tone cool but firm.

She shuffled into the study, avoiding his gaze as she looked at the floor. When she was inside, she stopped, seeming unsure of where to go now that she was finally there. “Dinner will be a casual affair tonight, Sarah,” he said, gesturing toward the sofa and chairs by the fireplace. “I thought we’d just eat over here.” She nodded and slunk into one of the chairs, sliding down as if she were trying to hide in the depths of the padded leather. Jareth had to chuckle to himself as he carried his drink over and settled down in the chair opposite her. She was acting the part of ‘surly teen’ perfectly – and he should know, since he felt he had perfected that particular role during his own teen years.

Although she may think the rules he was imposing upon her were strict and unreasonable, he was no stranger to such rules himself, having been raised both Underground and Above. Smiling he sipped his drink and watched her, as she studiously avoided looking at him. While the rules and restrictions placed on young men and women Underground were, quite naturally, different, they were no less strict.

Tilting his head he watched as she picked at her fingernails, eventually bringing one to her mouth and nibbling it, while still avoiding looking at him. He could tell by the way she sat and tried to ‘hide’ from him in the deep chair that she knew she was in trouble for being late. She knew it, and she was waiting for him to say something about it, of that he was sure. Oh yes. Even though she studiously avoided giving the appearance of caring about his very presence, she cared…very much in fact. And the fact that he had said nothing about her being late, was eating at her, making her more nervous and conscious of his every movement.

Which was precisely why he said nothing.

At five minutes past, Mrs. Brown flitted into the room carrying a laden tray. “Good evening Sir,” she chirped cheerfully, sitting the tray down on the coffee table. “Hello, Sarah,” she added with a warm smile. “Did you have fun shopping in London and getting all the things you needed for school?”

Hiding her hands in the long sleeves of her baggy sweatshirt, Sarah glanced up at the housekeeper, the girl’s face expressionless. Jareth watched her as she glanced at him briefly, her eyes showing the clear struggle inside her over what to say. He could see how she wanted to say no, but couldn’t because they both knew that was a lie. “Yes,” she muttered dully, then looked down again, studying the cuff of the faded grey sweatshirt.

Jareth smiled at the housekeeper’s obvious concern. “Don’t mind, Sarah. I have ensured that she is fully equipped for school to begin and now has more dresses and clothes for every conceivable occasion than any girl her age could possibly need,” he said smoothly, taking a plate from Mrs. Brown with his gloved fingers. “She is just a bit sullen because she was late…again…and knows that will only compound the punishment owed for being late for breakfast… _and_ for being silly with the purple hair.”

Mrs. Brown’s eyes went wide, “Purple hair, Sir?”

Laughing Jareth nodded, “Oh yes. Sarah had a little fit of obstinence while at the salon this afternoon and had the stylist dye her hair purple while I was in a meeting,” he chuckled, his eyes flashing fondly at the girl while she still avoided his gaze. “And while it was a rather striking shade of purple, it was wholely inappropriate and went against the directions she was given.”

With her lips pursed, Mrs. Brown nodded sagely, handing Sarah a plate with a thick slice of steak pie on it. “Yes, I can’t see the Head Mistress at the academy being too accepting of such a thing,” she commented, then served them both some potatoes and gravy, before setting them up with steaming cups of tea.

Shaking his head, Jareth laughed, “Indeed. So Sarah and I will have a settling of ‘accounts’ a bit later, hence her mood. And it is understandable, this style of discipline is new to her.”

Mrs. Brown nodded and patted Sarah’s shoulder as she picked up the now empty tray. “Best just get things over with so the slate is clean again, my dear. The sooner you get settled and accept that rules are rules, the happier you’ll be. You’ll see,” she said, then nodded at her employer. “When would you like me to bring dessert in, Mr. Rex, Sir?” she asked.

His blue eyes fixed on Sarah who caught them briefly before blushing and becoming very interested in the contents of her plate.

“I’ll call when the accounts are settled for the day, Tess,” he replied, dismissing the housekeeper who cast one more concerned look at Sarah, before disappearing from the room.

When she was gone, Jareth began to eat with a sigh. “Really, Sarah…there is no sense in being rude to Mrs. Brown just because you know you are in trouble for disobeying me. She has done nothing to you. You have no one to blame but yourself.”

Putting down her fork, Sarah set her plate on the coffee table and glared sullenly at him. “Can’t we get the punishment out of the way rather than sitting here trying to pretend we like each other?” she asked, folding her arms over her.

Jareth set his own fork down and looked at her, he had not been expecting this question, particularly since despite what she may think he actually was fond of her.

“Firstly, Sarah, I am not ‘pretending’ to like you. While it may be difficult for you to believe, I actually do like you and care about you, otherwise I would not have brought you and Toby to my house, but merely pawned you off on a boarding school somewhere,” he said. Her green eyes clouded a bit at that, as she nibbled her lip, clearly having never considered that to be any part of his motives. “As to our settling of accounts, I would prefer you to eat before we deal with the more objectionable things, Sarah, since it is my experience, particularly the first few times of being punished, that one does not generally feel much like eating afterward."

Frowning, Sarah made no move to pick up her plate, “Well to be honest, Jareth, I don’t feel much like eating anyway, knowing what is coming.”

He nodded quietly, acknowledging that what she said was likely true. Knowing that punishment was owed and inevitable did have a way of killing one’s appetite.

“Fine, I’ll make a deal with you then, Sarah,” he said, smiling inwardly at the way her eyes lit up hopefully at his words. “We can deal with the punishment now, if you so wish, and for tonight only, I will let you leave when we are done, but I will have Mrs. Brown bring you a tray later and you will eat what is on it, or else you will start off tomorrow with marks against you. Deal?”

Pursing her lips, Sarah considered his counter-offer. She wasn’t sure what she had hoped for in suggesting that they get on with the punishment, but the fact that he agreed and was going to let her retreat afterward was a small victory in her book.

“Deal,” she said, nodding.

Jareth gave her a small smile, “However, if you wish to dine with me afterward, I will be happy of your company.”

Sarah frowned. “Don’t push your luck, Jareth. I’d rather dine with a Firey at a table overlooking the bog,” she quipped without thinking, only to immediately clap a hand over her mouth, her green eyes wide.

He laughed at this, pleased to see her fire returning. “That can be arranged, Precious,” he chuckled, “Although a think you will find that my manners are far better as I promise not to try to remove your head during dinner.” She blushed further as he snapped his fingers and the study door fell shut with a crisp snapping sound as the lock slid home. “It is best we are not disturbed when it comes to punishment,” he informed her, his pale eyes flickering darkly as he looked at her.

For a brief moment Sarah had the strangest feeling of seeing double, with the sleekly suited Mr. Rex persona, superimposed upon the intimidating, armor clad visage of the Goblin King, his cape flapping and snapping in an unfelt wind. Sarah felt her stomach tighten and roll at the potential meanings in his words, her cheeks heating up in response. With another snap of his fingers the dinner things disappeared from the coffee table and in their place appeared a small book bound in blue leather, with a quill pen made of a single snowy white feather, laying on top of it. She blushed when she realized her name was embossed in silver on the cover.

Jareth picked up the book and held it on his knee with one elegant, gloved hand as he looked at her, his lips curling in a quiet smile that was by no means malicious, if anything, it seemed almost apologetic, her heart giving a twinge of guilt that she had ignored his rules.

“It is customary in Fey royal families to account for punishments and rewards when training young royals, as they will be judged quite harshly for their behavior in our society. Upon the child’s tenth birthday, they are gifted with a book for recording such accounts. As my ward and the Champion of the Labyrinth, you are of the royal line for the Goblin Kingdom, therefore, your training will be recorded, just as mine was and my brothers and sisters before me. While you are considerably older than ten, by Underground standards, you are still quite young. Therefore, we will start your book and your training tonight, Sarah,” he said quietly, his gloved fingers almost stroking the blue leather of the book.

Sarah swallowed hard, unable to take her eyes off the gloved hand and the blue book. Her stomach fluttered as he smiled at her. He made no other move, but looked at her. She had expected him to give her that cocky, supercilious smirk that she remembered so well from the Labyrinth, but oddly he didn’t. Instead he looked at her seriously, but not unkindly.

“For today’s accounting, there are three major ‘lapses’ that will be recorded,” he said, his voice quiet but firm. “There were other minor things, like calling me by the wrong name at times, but those will be overlooked for the first several weeks as we focus on the ‘big’ rules.”

Unbidden, Sarah felt herself nod, her eyes stinging a little as she suddenly felt bad for having to be punished at all. A part of her mind screamed in protest at that… _Why should you feel bad?! He is the one imposing all the rules. He doesn’t own you! You shouldn’t have to kowtow to his whim just because he is somehow your guardian!_ She wondered at her own feeling of guilt, and where her feelings of righteous indignation had gone, but as Jareth spoke, she found that she no longer really cared about them.

  
“Do you know what the three items we will be recording today are?” he asked, his blue eyes fixed on her in such a way that she felt her stomach flutter again and her cheeks flush hotly.

“I was late…twice,” she mumbled, unable to look him in the eye anymore. Sarah fidgeted with her hands, burrowing them more deeply in the sleeves of her sweatshirt.

Were it not for his advanced hearing due to his avian form, Jareth wouldn’t have been able to hear her as she whispered. He smiled, his keen senses not only hearing her, but smelling the discomfort and guilt as they emanated from her, a dull, bitter-tinged scent that smelled faintly of rotten herbs. He had expected her to be angry and belligerent, so to find she felt guilty was a surprise. Perhaps she would adjust more quickly than he had thought.

“Yes, you were late… _intentionally_ ,” he said, stressing the last word with a quiet growl. She flinched at his tone, the scent of her guilt intensifying.

“Yes, Sir,” she mumbled, only vaguely aware of what she had said, when the noisy part of her mind began to scream at her… _You’re giving in?! Have you forgotten who this is?! THE FUCKING GOBLIN KING!!!! WHY THE HELL ARE YOU GIVING IN?!?!_

Feeling lost in her own mind and skin, Sarah felt her eyes burn with tears as her inner-self screamed a question she could not answer. She didn’t know why she was giving in, or why this whole thing was making her feel so odd. She felt such a strange mix of guilt, sadness and most disturbing, desire. It was all so confusing and felt so wrong – yet a small part of her seemed to derive a sense of comfort from the whole thing as it whispered in her ear… _If he didn’t care, he’d let you make a fool of yourself. He wouldn’t care what you did._

“And what else did you do?” he asked, idly caressing the silver lettering of her name on the blue leather.

Sarah shivered as she watched the movement through hooded eyes, biting her lip as she could almost feet the touch on her cheek. Shutting her eyes tight she took several deep breaths trying to get control of herself, her emotions and mind were at war and she was caught in the middle. “I dyed my hair after you told me to be sensible,” she muttered.

He smiled and nodded. “Now, I’ve told you why the purple hair was a mistake, didn’t I?” he asked and she nodded, knowing that he wanted her to tell him why. She blushed deeper, not wanting to repeat it. “Punishment is not given lightly, it is always done for a reason, Sarah,” Jareth said, his tone gentle, but firm. “I need you to tell me _why_ you are being punished, so that I know that you understand why what you did was wrong.”

She slouched deeper into the chair, her dark hair falling forward to provide the small illusion of hiding from him as she squirmed uncomfortably. “You told me not to dye my hair and I did. I disobeyed you. But I also dyed my hair purple,” she murmured, picking restlessly at her fingernails.

“And why was that a poor choice, other than the obvious fact that I told you not to dye your hair?” he asked, watching her reactions intently.

“Because purple hair is a sign of a royal pleasure slave,” she said softly, not taking her eyes off her lap. “So, I basically offered myself to you.”

Jareth watched her as she hesitated in answering. He had expected the first part of her answer, but was surprised that she understood what he had not told her, that by dying her hair purple she had offered herself to him. What she didn’t know, as he did not see a reason to tell her, is that by Underground law, merely dying her hair back did not negate the offer. If it weren’t for the bitter smell of her guilt being overshadowed by the cloying sweetness of embarrassment, it would be so easy to tease her further about the fact that she had essentially, albeit unknowingly, claimed herself to be his pleasure slave and that by law, he could claim the offer anytime he wanted, but the look of discomfort on her face was enough to tell him she understood what she had done wrong. And really, he was not the monster she thought him to be, he would not force her to honor that particular offer. She understood what she did was wrong and was embarrassed by it, that meant that she now understood that seemingly simple things Aboveground, can have vastly different, and in some cases life-altering meanings Underground.

“Good. Now tell me why you are being punished for being late?”

Sighing she finally looked up at him again, her back straightening a bit in the chair, “Because I deliberately disobeyed you.”

He nodded and smiled at her, “While that is true, there is another reason… royals must be on time,” he said, knowing there was more to it, but she was not in the proper mindset to appreciate them at this point, as knowing them now would only upset her needlessly. “It is rude for us to be late, particularly to private meetings. Your meals with me are both the opportunity for private tutoring in the ways of the Underground, but also can be considered a meeting with the King, Sarah. Therefore, being rude is a sign of disrespect and were I in the mood, I would be justified in having you jailed or publicly flogged for such an offense. Understand?”

She nodded mutely, but didn’t look away from him – that was progress as far as Jareth was concerned. Opening the book, Jareth laid it on the coffee table in front of her. The pages were pristine cream, neatly laid out in lines of gold, with three columns outlined in red – Infraction….Reason….Punishment.

“It is quite simple really,” he said quietly, his expression turning serious. “At the end of each day, we will account for your behavior. Waving his hand over the book, the pages turned to a section labeled ‘Rewards’. “Accounting for both the good and the bad, Precious. While I will record the rewards, as it is your book, you will record the infractions and punishments,” he said, moving his hand over the book again and turning the pages back to the punishment section. “You will write down what you did wrong, and _why_ you did it. That is the one thing I cannot answer for you. I expect you to be honest, however as we are just getting started, I will tell you that the book is enchanted and will not let you write a lie upon its pages.”

Sarah frowned at that and he could almost hear the grumble coming from her. Biting back a smile he continued, “Go on, write down the infractions and the reasons, then I will enter the punishments.”

Sighing, Sarah picked up the white feather quill and looked around for some ink. “Where is the ink, Jareth?” she finally asked, puzzled when he merely smiled and pulled a grey silk glove from his hand, exposing long, slender fingers.

“Just as punishments are given for a reason, they do not merely affect the one being punished,” he replied, then pulled a small silver knife from the air. Without a word he nicked his palm, a small well of crimson appearing.

With a look of horror, Sarah gasped, her eyes shifting from the small pool of blood on his palm to his face. “You can’t be serious, Jareth! That’s barbaric.”

He shrugged and smiled sadly at her, “As I said, misbehaving hurts more than just you, as does the punishment, Precious. _That_ is the first and most important lesson Fey royalty must learn.” Giving her an encouraging nod, he gestured toward the blue book with his other hand, “Go on, Sarah… it is time to settle accounts for today.”

With her eyes prickling uncomfortably again, Sarah lightly dipped the tip of the quill into the drops of crimson pooling in Jareth’s palm, careful not to actually touch the cut with the sharp point of the pen, then she began to write.

  1. _Late to breakfast (15 minutes) |  Because I didn’t want to be pushed around by Jareth_
  2. _Late to dinner (2 minutes)  | Because I was being stubborn and deliberately pushing_
  3. _Dyed my hair purple  | Because it is my body and Jareth can’t tell me what to do_



Smiling, Jareth read over her reasons and nodded. “Very good,” he said, taking the quill from her and turning the book toward himself. “As this is the first day of accounting, I will not be as hard on you as I might otherwise be, Sarah,” he said, then glanced at her, his eyes flashing darkly for a moment. “However, do not make the mistake of thinking that I will always be so _generous_ with you, Precious,” he added, his tone dropping and becoming hard, the sound making her stomach clench and flutter at the same time. Dipping the quill into his palm, Jareth began to write with his left hand, careful not to smear her words as he added the punishment in the last column next to each entry.

_~ 3 strokes (1 for every 5 minutes)_

_~ 3 days of eating breakfast AND dinner with the King_

_~ duration: 1 week, from 7-9pm to be spent in the King’s study looking in the mirror_

He put the quill down and twisted his wrist, conjuring a pale pink crystal which he dropped onto his palm. When it popped, Sarah saw that the cut had been healed. He smiled at her, “Your punishments are listed, one will be delivered tonight, the other two will begin tomorrow,” he said, nodding toward the book.

Jareth chuckled to himself as she bit her lip nervously, then looked at the book, her eyes going wide as she read.

“Strokes?” she managed to squeak. “You…I…what?” she stuttered, her cheeks turning scarlet once more.

“Strokes, Sarah. As this is a first offense, the number is quite low. By next month, you will receive one stroke for each minute you are late,” he replied, leaning back in his chair as he pulled on his glove once more.

“But what….” She muttered, unable to bring herself to voice the whole question.

“Come, come, Sarah. Don’t tell me your parents never spanked you,” Jareth laughed softly, enjoying the way her blush deepened.

For her part, Sarah was both horrified and embarrassingly intrigued by the thought of being spanked, her stomach clenching as her inner-self alternately screamed indignantly and swooned, while making goo-goo eyes at Jareth. No. This was _not_ good.

“Of course they did, but I was a little girl then. And…well…that was them. My parents. Not…you!” she protested, wishing she could stop the heat from rushing to her cheeks again. “This is twisted, Jareth. I’m a grown woman. You can’t spank me.”

He just chuckled, his pale eyes flashing darkly at her in a way that made part of her angry and the other part want to squeal with delight. “On the contrary, Precious. I can…and I will. It is that simple. By Underground law, the lord of the house in in charge of disciplining all family and staff under his care. And that includes _you._ ”

Sarah frowned, shaking her head. The array of scents coming off the girl would be enough to incapacitate any other Fey, but Jareth was just amused. Anger. Embarrassment. Fear. And most surprising of all, arousal. As she shook her head, shrinking into her chair, it was the fear and embarrassment that became the strongest, cloyingly sweet and sharp, the scent surrounded him as it poured off her. The stronger it grew, the more he realized he needed to deal with her fear, and quickly or he would run the very real risk of losing her and her trust, permanently.

“Sarah…I need you to listen to me,” he began, his tone quiet but firm. Slowly she raised her face, just enough to give him the barest of glances. He smiled gently at her. “You do not have anything to fear from me. Not now…not ever. No matter what you may do, I will _never_ strike you in anger. You have my oath on that, Precious.”

As he gave her his oath, he felt her relax a little, the sharp scent of fear easing. “Really?” she asked, her green eyes shining warily as she looked at him.

“Really, Sarah. Remember, the accounting is more about training you to behave the way you should in Underground society, it is not about being mean. Some punishments will be simple, like ‘grounding’ you or giving you ‘detention’ in my office, others will involve spanking or more ‘objectionable’ things. All that aside, I will never truly harm you, Precious. I promise,” he said quietly.

“But…I’m not a child,” she muttered, pouting a bit in a way that made Jareth want to laugh and hug her close, a realization that puzzled him. Teasing her was one thing, but the sudden wave of indulgent glee at her words and actions was something unexpected.

Shrugging it off, he smiled at her, “Sarah, you are of the royal family now, and the highest ranking male of the house is honor bound to discipline _all_ members of the family that fall under his care, children, servants and even his wife.”

At his words Sarah’s eyes widened, “You’re kidding,” she gasped. “And she’d have to put up with that?”

Jareth just laughed and nodded, “If she were raised Underground, she would expect it and consider any husband and King who did not exert such discipline over his own household, to be weak and not worthy of respect.”

Frowning, Sarah slumped in her chair, considering his words. As much as it galled her to think it, he had a point. In the back of her head she heard Sir Didymus chirping, “If that is the way it is done, then that is the way you must do it….”

Watching her, Jareth could see that she was processing all he had told her and indeed, she had a fair bit to come to terms with, between the idea of punishment and her new place in Underground society. He settled back more comfortably in his chair as he watched the war play out over her lovely features. While he could prod her along, and get the punishment over with, he knew that for their long term happiness, she needed to come to him. She…needed to ask him for it. As he watched her, he wondered if she would come to that realization on her own, or if he would need to give her a nudge. Given how quickly she seemed to be grasping some aspects, he suspected she would arrive at the conclusion on her own.

And he wasn’t disappointed.

In less than five minutes she sat up straight in the chair, a look of calm resignation on her face. “Okay. Fine. Three strokes, but I have some questions first.”

Smiling he nodded, “Anytime a punishment is given, you may ask for clarification and or my reasoning for giving it, Sarah. I always work to ensure the punishment matches the infraction.”

Sarah worried her lip with her teeth before continuing, “First, when you said strokes, that could mean any number of things, right?” she asked.

He inclined his head thoughtfully as he replied, “Yes. Physical punishments may be assigned for various reasons. Therefore the type of stroke or implement used will vary as well. It might be the hand one time, a paddle, cane or even a crop at other times.”

At the mention of a crop Sarah caught a flash of the way he brandished the brown leather crop when he cornered her in the tunnels under the Wise Man’s garden.

 _Stop…stop it! You are sooooo not helping…._ She chastised her wandering mind as it made a few choice (and rather lewd) suggestions of other uses for Jareth’s crop.

“Um…okay…and for this time what does it mean?” she asked, feeling her cheeks flush again.

Jareth squelched the urge to smile at her discomfort, in all honesty, he was actually unsure how best to proceed. “While I will usually choose the manner of physical punishment to be used, there will be times when I will give you the choice,” he replied, steepling his gloved fingers in front of his lips as he answered. “In this instance, I will ask you to choose.”

She looked surprised at that revelation, then wary. “Why?”

Smiling he shrugged and decided to answer honestly, “Because I want you to trust me, Sarah and not question my motives.”

Her green eyes narrowed as she regarded him, clearly trying to determine whether this was a trick or not. Finally she nodded, “Okay, what are my options?”

“Were you a Fey child and I were your parent, a hand spanking would be traditional as this is a first offense and you are new to this type of domestic discipline. However, that would involve me physically touching you, in a manner that may be considered somewhat…’intimate’, despite the fact that the intent is not in any way of an ‘intimate’ nature,” he was amused to note the way her cheeks flushed and she avoided his eyes at the mention of him using his hand to spank her, then he continued. “Alternately I could use an implement of some kind, such as a ruler, paddle, or even a slipper as my governess used to use on me, but those tend to be more harsh and painful, something I am not particularly interested in exposing you to at this point,” he said, watching her reaction closely. To her credit, she didn’t even flinch, but looked thoughtful, as if carefully considering the options presented to her.

After several long moments she sighed with an exasperated huff. “You know, Jareth…you once told me my eyes could be cruel, just as you could be cruel and damnit…this is just cruel making me choose, but I can see why you would rather me choose so that I can’t say you were taking liberties. So…thank you,” she said, giving him a small, grateful smile.

To say Jareth was surprised would be an understatement – something akin to saying the Labyrinth was just a simple maze. Jareth blinked in surprise, completely stunned by what she had said. Not only did she remember a comment he was sure she would have forgotten all those years ago, she understood why he wanted her to choose.

“All things considered, while your hand seems the least painful option I…um….” she said, then hesitated, blushing again. “I just don’t think that is appropriate…right now,” she said, muttering the last bit sheepishly. Jareth managed to hide his amusement at her little addendum, nodding seriously as she continued. “I think the slipper might be the safest option at this point, assuming it is a normal type slipper and not made of y’know…carbon or anything like that.”

Jareth chuckled and waved his hand, a plain slipper appearing next to the blue book on the coffee table. “You may, of course, inspect it if you wish, Sarah. I assure you it is just a bedroom slipper. Mine to be exact,” he said.

She peered at it warily, but it did indeed appear to be nothing more than a slipper. The top was made of what appeared to be a fine silk brocade in black, shot through with fine golden threads. It wasn’t as showy or ostentatious as his wardrobe had been when she visited the Labyrinth, but then his wardrobe Aboveground had been much more understated, in fact it was positively conservative. She had to wonder if it was the slipper he wore at Tyuallan House, or in the Goblin Castle. Leaning over, Sarah flipped the slipper over, but didn’t pick it up, her finger lightly running along the bottom, frowning as she tried to figure out what it was made of.

“Leather, Sarah. Just a simple leather sole,” he said quietly, as if reading her mind.

Sarah glanced at him, then quickly looked away, blushing, “Um…yeah… I guess it would be,” she muttered, running her hand through her hair. “Canwejustgetthisoverwithnow?”

Smiling, Jareth nodded and stood up, moving around toward the front of his desk. He pulled the comfortable leather chair back from the desk and into the middle of the room, then motioned Sarah over. “Come here, Sarah,” he said softly, his expression quiet, but not unkind. “Physical punishment will generally happen the same way each time. You will either bend over the back of a straight chair or over the arm of a sofa,” he explained, patting the padded back of the easy chair.

She nibbled a fingernail as she walked toward him, a part of her mind screaming in outrage as she did so. _Why?! Why are you letting him get away with this?! Run! Fight! DO SOMETHING! ANYTHING!_

True, she couldn’t believe she was willingly going along with this. It was wrong, on so many levels. Completely, utterly, wrong. Yet, here she was, bending over the padded chair back without being prompted to do so. If she didn’t know better she would swear he had bespelled her, but she knew deep down that she was doing it. No, Sarah had consented to his authority when she signed the contract, and here she was consenting to be punished by him. Somehow, the idea that he too had been punished for misbehaving made it easier to accept. And really, if she fought him on this, he did have the power to restrain her and do it anyway, he had proved as much the night before when he pinned her in her chair. For some reason, consenting to the punishment seemed less objectionable than being forced into it, although if she were honest with herself there was a small part of her that got a little thrill from the thought of being restrained and spanked by him – but she was actively trying to ignore _that_ part of her mind.

Above all, as she stood bent over the back of the chair, Sarah felt silly.

She was a grown woman of 17 and about to be spanked by a fairy tale king with his bedroom slipper. Something about this was either horribly kinky or absolutely ridiculous, she just couldn’t decide which. Then Jareth touched her back and she nearly climbed out of her skin, the red flush suffusing her cheeks again. The touch was light and barely noticeable, but Sarah shivered a bit just the same. His words were still quiet and firm when he spoke, “You are expected to count punishment strokes, Sarah… and it is customary to both ask for the punishment and to thank the person delivering the punishment at the end. I won’t require it tonight, however in future, you will do well to remember that, or more strokes may be added. Royalty are expected to remember ways of address in _all_ situations, including this.”

She nodded, her words soft as she practically whispered, “Yes, Jareth. I understand.”

“Ready?” he asked, his hand still resting gently on her back, the fingers curling slightly, almost in a caress. Unable to make her mouth obey, Sarah simply nodded, tensing up as she waited for the first swat. “Sarah…,” Jareth said, with a warm chuckle, “A word of advice from one who has been on the receiving end… don’t tense up. It is always worse when you tense up.”

Sarah frowned, thinking that his suggestion made no sense. In thinking about his advice, she had relaxed, just a fraction of a second before he struck her with the slipper. Gasping in shock, she reared up to stand, but the gentle hand on her back pressed her firmly back into place. “Do _not_ move, Sarah,” he said, his tone dropping and becoming stern. She felt her stomach flutter at the sound of it, but stayed still as the pressure of his hand eased off again. While the slipper surprised her, it didn’t actually hurt, leaving a slight warmth after the initial quick sting.

“Um…one…” she managed to mumble, feeling ridiculous and blushing at the same time. Not thinking she tensed up again just as Jareth landed the next stroke on her denim covered bum.

“Oh! Two…” she yelped, at the sudden sharper sting, trying once more to rise without thinking about it, but his hand on her back held her down.

“Sarah!” he scolded, his voice almost a growl. “I will _not_ tell you again, stay still until I am done or we’ll start over.”

Sarah felt her lower lip tremble and her eyes itched with tears again, more from the stern tone of voice than the stinging burn of the slipper. “Yes, Jareth,” she mumbled, gripping the seat of the chair and trying not to tense up again.

Forcing herself to relax, she found the last swat wasn’t as bad as the second. Apparently, Jareth had been telling the truth.

“Three,” she muttered, standing up as soon as Jareth moved his hand from her back. She couldn’t look at him, she was far too conflicted. Part of her wanted to flee as far away from this house and Jareth as she could. Another part wanted to curl up in his lap and apologize profusely. That was right next to the part that just wanted him to cuddle her and tell her she was forgiven for being silly. Then there was part of her who wanted to run away and think of all the wicked, naughty little daydreams she had during boring classes, daydreams she was sure would now be dominated by a blonde Fae with a penchant for sparkling crystals. She didn’t know whether she wanted to cry from relief that it was over, sadness that she’d disappointed him, or sadness because it was over. In short, Sarah was confused. And it was all Jareth’s fault, of that she was sure.

Jareth didn’t say anything to her, but moved to the coffee table and picked up the blue book, the quill disappearing into thin air. His grey gloved hand held the book out to her, “The book is yours, so you are expected to bring it with you each night,” he said, watching her face carefully. She refused to look at him as she reached out and took the book, holding it gingerly as if it might burn her. “I expect you in the sunroom for breakfast at 7 tomorrow morning. Please be on time, as I don’t want to have to repeat this lesson again anytime soon,” he said, smiling when her cheeks turned pink. “As promised, you may now flee, Sarah,” he added, waving a hand at the door, which popped open with a ‘snapping’ sound as it unlocked.

Sarah didn’t need to be told twice.

If she had fled from the room any faster, she would have needed wings.

* * *

 

 **A/N:** Well, there you have it, the first part of Sarah’s punishment. And before some of you lynch me because Sarah seems to be giving in, don’t get your knickers in a twist. Moods and emotions change. Dear Sarah has some demons to wrestle in the coming months. I’ve got lots of little ‘plot arcs’ planned for this story. J

 

 

 

 

 


	7. Ch. 7: Emotions Run High

 

**Fifty Shades of Fey**

**Ch. 7: Emotions Run High**

By the time Sarah reached her room, her chest was tight and burning, just like her eyes. Sniffing, she went to wipe her eyes as the tears threatened to fall, only to be confronted with the blue book gripped tightly in her hand, her name in silver on the front seeming to mock her. With a frustrated scream, she threw it into the fire burning in the hearth and slammed her parlor door shut, locking it. Leaning against the cool wood of the door she finally burst into tears, the crackling sound of the fire eating the pages of the book echoing in her ears.

Sure, the spanking had hurt, but not _that_ badly – certainly not bad enough to cry over. So why was she bawling like a baby?

Sarah thumped her forehead on the door, as if by doing so she might be able to sort her jumbled emotions into some sense of order – or at least enough order that she could understand why she was crying. Everything was all mixed up and it made her heart and mind hurt trying to sort it all out.

Yes, she was angry. But being angry made sense. Anger was a reasonable response to what had just happened and Jareth was the most obvious recipient for her anger, after all he _had_ just spanked her. Not only that, but he was punishing her and by all accounts would continue to punish her should she break his rules. Beating her hands on the door, Sarah pushed away from it and into her bedroom as she sniffed, wiping her face with the sleeve of her shirt.

It wasn’t fair.

None of it was fair.

Sighing, Sarah threw open the door of her dressing room and started to change into her pajamas. If she was honest with herself, she knew why she was so angry, and it wasn’t just because Jareth had the gall to punish her. No, she had agreed to being punished as part of the conditions of the contract, even if she didn’t understand that is what the ‘authority’ clause meant at the time. The very fact that Jareth had that much power over her infuriated her -- infuriated and frightened her. It frightened her because on some level, she enjoyed it, both his control over her and his punishment.

“Gah! That is just wrong on so many levels. It’s fucked up,” she muttered angrily to herself. Flopping down on the vanity bench she picked up a hair brush and began to viciously brush her hair, almost welcoming the pain of the brush ripping through knots because it distracted her from the delicious way her stomach clenched when he spanked her and the way heat pooled deep inside her each time he purred her name and gave her that stern look. “Argh!” she snapped, tossing the brush onto the vanity hard enough to send it skittering off the table and onto the floor. “I don’t like him. I’ll never like him! He’s just a pompous, arrogant, son of a bitch who is getting off on torturing me with this whole ‘I have power over you’ thing,” she grumbled, but she knew she was lying. A part of her did like Jareth, even when she was caught in his Labyrinth.

As much as she hated to admit it, even to herself, she had regretted the way things had been left between them at the end of her Labyrinth adventure. Late at night, when she was finally alone in the quiet darkness of her room, safe under the covers, she would let her mind wander, imagining what it would have been like if her dream had actually come true while she was there – if Jareth had actually kissed her. Three times during her adventure, she had been sure he would do it. Three times she had felt her pulse race and her breathing grow shallow as she prepared to feel his silken lips on hers. And three times she had been left waiting and disappointed, feeling silly that she could even think he’d be interested in a young girl like her.

The first time was when he was before she had even entered the Labyrinth proper. He had pressed so tightly against her back as he murmured in her ear, trying to deter her…. _‘It’s further than you think. And time is short.’_ The heat of his breath against her ear was such a surprise that she froze, mesmerized and titillated by the feeling. Only after that night would she wish she had pressed back into him.

Deep in the tunnels he had cornered her again, flaunting his tight trousers and the sinfully sensual leather jacket as he baited her with his words and double-entendres. Sarah sighed remembering how he had leaned against the wall, his arm effectively pinning her between himself and the cold stone, almost forcing her to lean toward the heat of him. Her heart nearly stopped when he had purred at her, asking how she was enjoying his Labyrinth, the sound of his voice sending a shiver through her whole body that was so strong she was sure he must have felt it through the very stones of the Labyrinth. It had been on the tip of her tongue to quip, “I’d like it better with your tongue down my throat,” but 14-year-old girls didn’t say such things to Fey kings, no matter how handsome and enchanting they might be. It was just not done. Sarah wasn’t sure where that was written, but she was sure that was a rule. It had to be.

And then there was the peach dream.

That damn enchanted peach. Oh, she was still angry that Jareth put Hoggle up to giving her the peach, and that he’d tricked her. But no matter how angry she might be, there were parts of that dream that she cherished, particularly now that she was old enough to see the decadent debauchery that was just barely hidden in that ballroom. She was so young that while she ‘saw’ things happening in the press of dancers and guests, she didn’t recognize what was really going on until a year later. She and her best friend Antonia had been staying up watching cable when they ran across a porn channel and watched it until the wee hours of the morning. From that little ‘education’, Sarah was able to put ‘two-and-two’ together, finally making sense of some of the things that she had ‘seen’ in the ballroom – like the man’s legs and bum hanging out from under a woman’s volumous skirts, while his head and torso were hidden from view, as the woman moaned with abandon, flashing Sarah a knowing look. And the way that two men sandwiched a woman between them as they danced, pressing tightly against her while she ‘squealed’ with delight.

Oh yes. She saw what was _really_ going on in that ballroom.

Too little, too late though.

Then there was Jareth. As he sang to her, she felt him pressing tighter and tighter against her, until she could feel his body against hers, despite the layers of material she was swathed in. Virgin thought she might be, she remembered the hard heat of him and the way she could actually feel him throb against her, making her blush as he leaned in, his lips nearly touching hers.

And she had to go and ruin it!

Okay, sure. She was only 14 and didn’t understand the nature of what was going on, that didn’t mean she didn’t at least want to be kissed. And yes, she had to save Toby, after all it wasn’t his fault that she wished him away. But at the end of the day, she often wondered what would have happened if she had offered herself to Jareth in trade.

Of course, as things turned out, he ended up with both she and Toby anyway.

Both of them. Under his thumb.

Sarah sighed, looking at pale reflection that stared back at her from the depths of the mirror, tear-streaked cheeks set off by wide green eyes that even now threatened to let go with more tears. She gave a soft laugh as tears started to fall again, the hollow sound quickly swallowed up by the expansive racks of clothing that lined the dressing room. It was ironic really, in her daydreams of trading herself to the Goblin King, she had considered what being under his control might be like. So many times late at night, she had laid there, imaging far more ‘intimate’ exhibitions of his control, her breathing coming in quick gasps as she would shudder, biting her lip until it bled so as not to cry out his name while her fingers found their soft target – not wanting him to appear and see her like that.

Sadly enough, the reality of being under Jareth’s control, was vastly different.

“Things are not always what they seem….well that’s true enough, she muttered with a sad sniff, then buried her face in her arms, crying atop the cluttered top of the vanity.

* * *

 

Jareth stood by the open French doors leading out of his study, breathing deep of the cool crisp air. He needed the cool air to clear his head after Sarah fled his office – cool air or a cold shower. He didn’t quite care which.

The Goblin King knew that as his ward and effectively a member of his family, that as soon as she signed the contract he would be able to feel her emotions. Within royal families of the Underground, there was always an emotional link, as a protective measure. She had no idea that the contract was magical in that way, although the wording was perfectly legitimate in the Aboveground. He had not planned to monitor her feelings when she agreed to the contract, but then he didn’t realize just how freely she would project them or how strong they would be. Sarah was a creature ruled by her emotions and they were…. _loud_. Distractingly so.

Between the scent of her emotions and the feelings caused by them, merely having her in his study threatened to overwhelm him. Earlier in the day he had shielded himself from her emotions, allowing only the faintest tastes of them to seep through his defenses just so that he could keep tabs on her mood. Since it was the first time he was to punish her, he elected to remove his shielding in his study – that was his first mistake. The second was under-estimating just how much of an impact he was having on her. And as it turned out, his impact was considerable. And confusing.

That was what he felt most keenly now, as he watched the moon begin her slow ascent into the sky.

Yes, there were other emotions underpinning it – lots of anger which he felt as bright flashes of red and the scent of burning leaves. Then there was sadness, with its bitter smell. And the scent of desire still coated both the anger and sadness, surrounded by a faint tinge of fear. But overall, the most overwhelming of them all was confusion.

And in a way, he was as confused by her whirling emotions as she was.

Sure, he expected her to be angry. But the other emotions were a puzzle to him. He had gone out of his way not to frighten her. And he wasn’t sure how sadness fit into things. The desire however, was a surprise, but still a puzzle. In fact, while it was unexpected, it presented a certain level of ‘potential’ to him – the possibility of someday hoping that the desire might morph into something more enduring.

Shaking his head he sighed, ‘Best not to think such things….Love…especially the love of a human…is a tricky thing at best,’ he mused. Yes, human love was confusing enough, but considering that upon signing the contract Sarah had become a changeling, and the love response of a changeling was unpredictable at best.

Frowning, he wondered if it would have been better for both of them is she didn’t desire him. And he, desire her.

He had desired her when she first called upon him, intrigued and enchanted by the strength of the girl and her innocence, which tasted fresh and pure – as it should. Oh, he had desired her, but even the Goblin King has standards, although most would argue otherwise. No, as much as he wanted to keep the girl and groom her to be his, she was far too young to understand the consequences of the offer. Despite the fact he was bound by the rules to offer her the dream crystal when she was on the verge of winning, he was actually relieved when she turned it down.

The dream crystal always came with a catch, as most things do when dealing with a Labyrinth runner. While it would give the winner their dreams, they were only temporary. What it really did was make the winner property of the Goblin King. Usually when a runner took the crystal, he assigned them a role within the castle or kingdom, penance for their ‘crime’. Occasionally, if the runner were older he might keep them as a ‘toy’, using them until he was bored as punishment for their misdeed, then passing them off as a concubine to another of the Fey nobility. He knew that by human standards such a thing was frowned upon, but his was a culture of punishment, and that included slavery of various types – that is why he was glad Sarah had the strength of character to turn down the crystal. As much as he hated that she denied him and defied him at every turn, it made it easier on him. While the rules would have allowed him to keep her for his own, even her age was not a problem by Fey standards, however he felt otherwise. Her innocence was too lovely, and although he may play the villain, even he did not wish to take that innocence from her – at least not at that time.

Now, however, things were different.

Given the chance he would gladly relieve her of some of the innocence that still clung to her like the sweetest of tempting perfumes. Jareth’s smirked as he considered the sweet scent and feel of her desire that made him ache inside. Indeed, he would be most happy to help relieve her of her innocence, as well as the unquenched desire. For a price. _‘Forever isn’t very long at all…to be mine, Sarah Precious,’_ he thought, his lips curling in a dark smirk

Still, while her desire and what he would like to do about it were delicious to consider, it was her fear that concerned him most. If he were to take advantage of the desire, he needed to address the fear first.

And with that, the Goblin King took off into the night, his human guise falling away as he took to wing and flew low over the labyrinth that filled the expansive back yard. Cicling the portal gem at the center of the great maze, he hooted as it gave a glowing purple flash, then slipped through it into the mysts between worlds. His wings beat silently in the night sky as he rose higher over his beloved Labyrinth. No matter what Sarah may think of him thanks to the cranky comments of Hoggle, Jareth was not the cold, cruel ruler she beloved him to be. True, he was stern, but he had to be – goblins were not given to being easily controlled and would ignore orders delivered kindly. No matter how cruelly he might treat his goblin subjects, they loved him and respected him for it. And, being the diplomat that he was, he did not treat his non-goblin subjects with the same level of cruel coldness, they didn’t need it. What Sarah didn’t understand, because she did not see it in her journey through his kingdom, was the fact that his subjects, both goblin and not, adored their ruler. He ruled them fairly but strictly, and was extremely generous when his rules were followed.

With another low hoot, he dropped gracefully onto the balcony of his private chambers, his avian form melting away to leave him in his preferred attire for lounging at home, loose silk trousers and an open front silken shirt. Stretching his shoulders from his journey, he walked through the richly appointed rooms, the torches and fireplace lighting as he moved. The Goblin King settled at his desk to begin catching up on matters of state in his kingdom, glad that as Fey, his trips between worlds did not task his his energy levels greatly, thanks much to the strange way that time flowed between the worlds. Pulling the first of many missives from the stack upon his desk, he began to read, only to interupted several minutes later with a soft ‘thump’ as a blue book landed in the middle of his desk. Picking it up, he traced the name on the cover, the scent of smoke and ash clinging to the leather as the blackened edges began repairing themselves until they were once again their usual pristine state.

“Oh Sarah love…what am I to do with you?” he chuckled, then sat the book down and began to formulate a plan.

* * *

 

Late in the evening, Jareth settled on his bed to read through his own punishment book. He smiled at the carefully written comments from his beloved mother, father and tutors, wondering idly how he ever managed to survive to adulthood, given some of the things he had done in his youth. He was particularly puzzled at what possessed him to attempt to ride an untrained dragon at the tender age of 10. Surely he should never have survived to see 11 with that foolishness, but somehow he had. Chuckling, he hoped that Toby would not prove to be the handful had had been, although he was quite sure that when his mother discovered he now had a son, she would be hoping the boy would be far worse than Jareth had ever had been.

How was it the Americans liked to put it? Oh yes…’Payback is a bitch’.

As he read, he started to feel an odd squeezing in his chest. Frowning, he put the book down and waited, recognizing the feeling as it grew stronger, seeming to force the air from his lungs. He knew the feeling and it wasn’t originating with him, but with Sarah. With a small shimmer of gold, he disappeared from his chambers, appearing in the next instant next to Sarah’s bed while she gasped, sitting up and frantically shaking the small blue inhaler. She was surprised when Jareth showed up, but was too panicked by the lack of air to even think of fighting him when he took the inhaler from her. He continued to prime it, as he sat down behind her, again tucking her back against his chest so she could feel the slow, steady rise and fall of his own breathing. She cursed her luck, while her libido screamed in wordless squeals of joy at the feeling of being nestled against his chest, at the same time her body howled at the need for air – declaring all other sensations and thoughts officially null and void.

Jareth’s arm slid warmly around her, holding her against him as he tucked the mouthpiece between her gasping lips.

“Slowly, Sarah,” he ordered gently, then pressed down on the canister, relieved when she sucked in the medicine.

After several long moments, she exhaled, her breathing already starting to ease a bit. Reaching out, she tried to take the inhaler from him, rasping, “I’ve got it now.”

Shaking his head, Jareth murmured, “No, Sarah. You just relax, let me.” He held the mouthpiece up for her again and depressed the canister a second time, pleased when she didn’t fight him on it.

When the second dose was done, he opened his hand, offering her the blue pump.

Sarah felt her face flush as she took it from him, knowing she should pull away, but his chest was so warm, and the feel of his arm around her seemed so safe and comfortable. For his part, Jareth was reluctant to let her go as well, he was worried about her health. Once she was breathing more evenly, he released his hold so that she could move away if she so wished. A part of him hooted inwardly in triumph when she didn’t rush away from his embrace, but gradually shifted sideways, so she was still touching his bent leg, but not as closely.

“How did you know, Jareth?” she asked softly, her pale features dimly lit in moonlight that peeked through the curtains of her room. “You knew last night too.”

He smiled softly at her, brushing a bit of hair from her face. “You are, for all intents and purposes, a member of the royal line of the Goblin Kingdom, Sarah. I can feel when you are in physical peril and I will _always_ come for you,” he said. _While ever I have breath in my body…I will always rescue you, Precious,_ he added silently.

She blushed, the heat visible even in the dim light. “Thank you,” she murmured, feeling her cheeks burn hotter as she registered the expanse of bare, pale chest under his open front shirt, the golden sigil of office hanging against the smooth skin. Biting her lip she forced her gaze to shift, instead watching as he tilted his head in that very owl-like way of his, a way she was quickly starting to see meant he was thinking something serious.

Fey though he may be, he had enough dealings with Aboveground children to understand such things as medication and the seriousness of some diseases. It rankled him that while he could do many things, he could not heal Sarah of this affliction. He knew enough to realize that it should not be happening this often.

 

“Sarah, correct me if I’m wrong, but your attacks…they are usually not so frequent, yes?” he asked, his tone quiet and concerned, as he narrowed his blue eyes.

She sighed and nodded, “True. They haven’t been this bad since I was a child. I don’t know why they are as bad as they are. I use my regular medication, I shouldn’t have attacks like this.”

Frowning, Jareth looked at her, then slowly nodded. “Okay, after breakfast we are getting you examined.”

Sarah wrinkled up her nose, “I hate doctors, Jareth. There isn’t much they can do anyway.”

She was surprised when Jareth laughed, shaking his head, making the silvery blonde strands shimmer in the moonlight.

“I said nothing about a ‘doctor’, Sarah,” he chuckled, clearly amused by her suggestion. “While I appreciate some of the fantastic scientific innovations of your world, when it comes to the health of the royal family, I wouldn’t trust them as far as Sir Didymus could throw them.” Seeing her confusion he patted her hand, “Relax, Sarah. I will have my own healer drop in tomorrow following breakfast. She will meet with you and I have no doubt she should be able to help us understand why this is happening so frequently.”

Stifling a yawn, Sarah nodded warily at him.

“Good. Now, get some sleep, Sarah,” he said, rising and tugging her covers back.

Sarah was torn, part of her squealing at the fact that Jareth clearly meant to tuck her in, while the rest of her just felt sheepish about it – she was a grown woman for crying out loud, she didn’t need to be tucked in. All the same, she slid between the sheets and down until her head was on the pillow.  Just as she suspected, Jareth tucked the covers around her. For a split second she even thought he might kiss her, her heart starting to beat frantically in her chest.

Feeling her heart begin to race again, Jareth wondered if she was heading into another attack, until he smelled the telltale signature of desire and anticipation. For all her declarations that she was an adult, Sarah not only needed someone to care for her, she clearly craved it. Smiling quietly he reached out and stroked her cheek, his smile broadening when she leaned ever so slightly into his caress, so lightly he didn’t think she even realized what she had done.

“Good night, Sarah,” Jareth murmured, as she shut her eyes. He could feel the sense of peace and security flowing through her and it made him smile.

Before she could open her eyes again, he disappeared, reappearing in his own bed in the manor. Shaking his head, he laughed to himself as he lay back on the smooth silk of the sheets. “How you turn my world,” he chuckled, pulling a crystal from the air and watching the girl drift closer to sleep. As she finally slept, he let his defenses down against both her and Toby’s feelings, two shimmering threads seeming to fade into existence, flowing around his chest, each pulsing with the heartbeat of one of his wards. He watched the two shimmering cords of purple and green throb steadily until they synced with his own, then he smiled. It was quite ordinary for immediate Fey family members to sync in that way, but he had not been expecting that of Sarah and Toby, at least not so soon.

Shutting his own eyes, the Goblin King let the gentle hum of their combined hearts, lull him to sleep, while he floated on the sensation of warmth and being protected that he felt from both Toby and Sarah.

**BREAK**

**A/N:** Well, there you go. Thanks for being patient. Those of you who expect the same level of smut in this story that I usually write, might find that won’t be the case for a number of chapters yet – but this doesn’t mean there won’t be hints of it *lol* Gotta keep the UST going. ;)

 


	8. Ch. 8: Of Scents and Sensibilities

CH. 8 – Of Scents and Sensibilities

When her alarm went off at 6 am, Sarah was surprised to find that she felt refreshed, as if she had slept for more than just the 5 hours she had. She expected to wake up confused or tired, but she felt peaceful and well-rested. In fact, she felt fantastic. Stretching, she rolled to a sitting position and breathed deeply, something she had not been able to do in the middle of the night. As she sat there, idly detangling her hair with her fingers, she pondered Jareth’s new ability to play ‘white knight’ when she needed help. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that, about him ‘knowing’ when she was in trouble. If he knew that, then how much else might he know. Considering the jumbled emotions she had following the spanking the night before, she shuddered and hoped fervently that he couldn’t read her emotions – or else she might lock herself in an oubliette just from the embarrassment.

Standing up, she stretched further, the hem of her nightshirt riding up her body to expose her knickers. At the feel of it slipping over her hips she started remembering that she had been sitting up with her shirt around her hips when she was struggling with the inhaler in the middle of the night. Dropping her arms against her sides with a thud, she groaned, “Fuuuuuck! Jareth saw me in my nightshirt and nothing else.” Sarah fell back on her bed and covering her eyes with her arm, trying to chase the image of herself sitting between Jareth’s thighs, dressed in nothing but her (altogether too short) nightshirt, from her mind. To his credit, Jareth didn’t seem to have noticed, in fact, he seemed to be more concerned with her breathing and overall health, than anything else. With that bit of hope to hang onto, she rolled out of bed again and moved to the window, pushing the heavy brocade curtains open.

It was early enough that the sun was still in the process of peeking over the horizon. Sarah paused to admire the violet shimmer of the sunrise over the labyrinth in the back yard of the manor, purples and pinks glinting off the glittering skin of the crystal at the center. Like it or not, it was beautiful, and if she was honest with herself, Sarah through the real Labyrinth was breathtaking too – when it wasn’t cheating and changing things around on her at random. Of course, she wasn’t sure if those things were Jareth’s doing of the maze itself, although the way he talked about it, it sounded as if it were almost sentient..

Opening the window she breathed deep again, enjoying the crisp, scent of the flowers and trees as it blew into her room. She left the windows open as she began her usual yoga routine. Partway through she realized she was humming and stopped in confusion, only to hear someone singing softly from outside. She couldn’t hear the words, just the melody, but she must have recognized it, as she was humming along. Standing up again, she leaned further out her window to listen, finally realizing the sound was coming from below her. As she looked down she saw that the windows to Jareth’s study were wide open and the sound was coming from inside – from Jareth.

Sarah grinned as she stretched further trying to hear better. It was such a familiar song, yet she didn’t recall it being something she had heard at home. The sound of his voice would drift further from the window, then get louder, making her smile as she imagined him walking around his office reading papers. Eventually the sound grew louder, until it seemed he must be standing right under her, and she was finally able to hear a snatch of the words… ‘Within your heart….I’ll place the moon’ she heard, then he moved away again before she heard, “Falling in love…as the world falls down…”

As she listened she caught flashes of a shimmering white and gold ballroom and Jareth, resplendent in blue velvet, singing to her. This was the song he sang to her in the ballroom and it was the same song he had been humming last night as he held her in her room. Sarah gasped in surprise, then clapped her hand over her mouth and ducked back into her room as the singing stopped. Blushing she raced for her bathroom, the familiar burning sensation starting low in her stomach as she remembered how close he had been to kissing her as he sang that song in the ballroom.

* * *

 

At 6:50 Sarah pushed open the doors to the sunroom and stopped in surprise. Jareth wasn’t there. She’d beaten him to breakfast. Grinning, she smoothed her hair back, tucking it behind her ear as she went in. There was a small table with four seats, but it was only set for the two of them. Each place was set with pristine white porcelain plates, edged with a golden knotwork design in what appeared to be real gold. In the center of the table was a simple glass bowl, filled with red and white roses floating in water. The bottom of the floral arrangement was filled with lavender spheres that looked like smaller versions of the crystal that was held aloft over the labyrinth in the back yard. As she neared the table, her eyes fell on a white wrapped package sitting on one of the plates.

Sheepishly she peered around to confirm she was by herself, then leaned over to read the card, her eyes widening when she saw her name in Jareth’s careful script. Biting her lip, she picked up the card. There wasn’t anything indicating that she could open it, but… by that logic, there wasn’t anything saying that she shouldn’t open it either. ‘ _I’ll just read the card…what could that hurt…’_ she reasoned, as she flipped the creamy ivory envelope over and slid a small embossed notecard out of the unsealed paper.

_Sarah –_

_An item that belongs to you seems to have been ‘misplaced’ and was returned to me by happenstance. Please take better care of your things. The other item is included as a means of encouraging you not to misplace this particular item again._

_~J_

Curiosity got the better of her at this point and she couldn’t help but turn the package over and carefully open it, blushing furiously as she saw her punishment book sitting there, looking unmarred in any way. It sat atop another book. Reaching out, she carefully moved her book aside, sucking on her lower lip as she looked at the purple leather book below it with lovely silver script on the front ‘HRH Jareth Llewellyn Maddoc de Tylwyth Teg’.

Jareth had given her _his_ punishment book.

Whistling softly she ran her fingers over the lettering, “Damn, that’s a mouthful.”

“More than a mere mouthful, I assure you,” came the answering chuckle from the doorway.

Jumping back from the book as if burned, Sarah looked at him, feeling her face burn at the sultry smirk on Jareth’s face and the double-meaning of his words. He gracefully made his way across the room, dressed in silken lounging pants, a simple black t-shirt that hugged his chest, and a light robe open over his shirt. She blushed further as she realized he was wearing the same slippers he had spanked her with the night before. As he reached the dining table, his suggestive grin faded, replaced with a warm smile.

“Imagine being saddled with a name like that as a child. Just as well I was royal and generally just called ‘Prince Jareth’ or ‘His Highness of Tylwyth Teg’, if I’d been called by all of those names all the time, I think I would have gone mad,” he said, pulling her chair out for her. “Good morning, Sarah dear, do sit down,” he added with a nod.

Sinking into her chair she felt both embarrassed and overdressed, folding her hands in the lap of her denim skirt. As if sensing her discomfort he lightly rested his hand on her shoulder a moment, “You look lovely, by the way…although if breakfast is taken before 8, then casual attire is perfectly acceptable. I should have warned you.”

Sarah nodded, her blush deepening, but she squelched it down, “Gee…thanks for the warning.”

Chuckling, Jareth sat across from her, his pale eyes shining as he watched her blush – he didn’t think he would ever tire of seeing her react that way. It was quite enchanting, really, even with the delightful bit of fire she was showing.

As Jareth arched an eyebrow at her reply, Sarah bit her lip, half-expecting him to announce that as her first punishable offense for the day. She breathed a slow sigh of relief as he said nothing else about it. Instead, he merely reached over, picked up his purple punishment book and flipped idly through it.

“I thought you might enjoy seeing the sorts of things I got punished for as a lad, as well as the ‘inventive’ means my parents and teachers used to punish me,” he said as he looked at the book, then handed it back to Sarah with a wink. “This is just volume 3 covering what would be my teen years by human standards. I didn’t think you’d want to read about me putting toads in my tutor’s soup and that sort of juvenile nonsense.”

She couldn’t help but smile, trying to imagine a little Jareth running around a castle somewhere with pockets full of toads or worse. Oh, she could imagine him getting into trouble, that part was easy – very easy. It was more imagining what a little Jareth would have looked like. Trying to imagine a teenage Jareth however, was remarkably easy; just like it was ridiculously easy to see him getting into all kinds of compromising situations. As she took the book back, she nibbled her lip, wondering if she would find any offenses in there dealing with illicit behaviours where the opposite sex were concerned.

“Um…thanks… I think,” she finally answered as he looked expectantly at her.

Mrs. Brown and the kitchen girl swooped in a moment later with trays of food and began putting them out on the table.

“Sorry we’re late, Sir,” Mrs. Brown chirped as she swiftly moved around making sure the kitchen girl put everything in just the right plate. “Grace has fallen ill with a late-summer cold, so I was organizing for a spare housekeeper from the town girls for the next few days.”

Sarah watched as Jareth’s whole demeanor changed when the others entered. It was fascinating. If she didn’t know what he ‘really’ was, she wouldn’t have seen it. But as they walked in, his human guise seemed to become sharper, his hair shortening, cheekbones softening slightly, and the supernatural ‘glittery’ aura around him disappeared along with the angular markings above his eyes. Watching she mused over the fact that this is the first time he’d shown her anything like the being he was in the Labyrinth. Usually he looked, well…human. When they left again, she smiled. “So, do you have to put on the human mask thing every morning?”

Tapping lightly at the top of his boiled egg, Jareth chuckled. “Ahh…you saw that did you?” he asked. As Sarah nodded he cut the top off his egg and picked up one of the small toast points on his plate. “As Fey, we call it a ‘guise’ and it isn’t something that I actually ‘put on’ as you called it. Rather, it merely happens. That you saw it speaks to the fact that you are now a changeling, so you can see magic unless it is purposefully blocked from you. I see no reason to block who and what I really am from you, as you already know them. Therefore, you will see me both in my human guise and in my more natural form.”

Sarah followed Jareth’s lead, carefully chipping the top off her egg, then dipping a bit of the toast in the warm runny yolk. Surprisingly, it was quite tasty that way.

“In your more natural form? You mean your Fey form isn’t it?” she asked as she nibbled on a bit of the toast.

He smiled and shook his head, taking a sip of his coffee. Putting the cup down again, Jareth looked at her, his pale eyes twinkling merrily. “No, the Fey form you have seen is close to my true form, but a version that humans who have the ability to see the Fey, find less…how shall I put this…intimidating.”

Sarah’s green eyes narrowed at this, and she suddenly looked nervous. Without alarming her further, Jareth reached out his senses, feeling for the link to her emotions as he inhaled slowly and deeply. He felt and smelled a sudden burst of fear from the girl, cursing himself inwardly for divulging too much too soon. Too many humans assumed that if he were not Fey, he must be demon, which was quite far from the truth.

“Its okay, Sarah,” he said gently, purposefully dropping his tone into a register that he knew should elicit feelings of reassurance in the girl. “You know there are two types of Fey, yes?” he asked, relieved when she nodded and started to eat again.

“Yes…the Seelie and Unseelie,” she said, picking up a slice of bacon and munching on it thoughtfully. “But what does that have to do with why your true Fey form would be intimidating?”

Jareth chuckled, letting the human guise fade away again. “Quite a lot actually. The Seelie are considered ‘rule-bound’, we abide by the eshabot when dealing with humans.”

The girl frowned, her pale features pulling in as she looked at him skeptically. “Eshabot?”

He nodded, “Yes, Sarah… essentially rules, or in human terms more accurately laws that govern how we can interact and deal with humans. You see, humans evolved from lesser Fey many centuries ago. The bloodlines are so mingled and diluted now that many humans have some tiny bit of Fey blood in them, but it is so diluted that they wouldn’t be aware of it.”

Her eyes lit up, “Ohh…so that explains people with ‘the sight’ and things like that.”

Smiling, Jareth nodded, “Precisely. Anyway, the eshabot dealing with humans dictates that Fey should not assume their true form in front of any human who has not knowingly consented, as our true form has a tendency to cloud their judgment, making them susceptible to suggestion. Many humans find our true form, well, alluring. Others find us fearsome. The Seelie abide by these laws, while the Unseelie, well, they have a tendency to flout the rules – much like you do,” he said, giving her a sly smirk and watching her blush again. “They particularly like to take advantage of the way their true form affects the, desires of humans.”

“You showed me your true form then, when I ran your Labyrinth to get Toby back,” she said with a knowing grin that faded when Jareth shook his head.

“No, Precious, I did not. That would go against the eshabot. As the Goblin King and one of the royal line of the Underground, to break the eshabot would mean losing my kingdom and my place in the family. I showed you but a pale version of my true form, but not the full extent of it,” he said, piercing a bit of sliced peach on his fork and chuckling as Sarah made a face when he bit into it.

“Yes…you did. I’m sure of it. You were intimidating as hell when you first showed up at my house, and in the ballroom you…well…” she said, then stammered, her cheeks flushing again. “I just…I’m sure of it.”

Feeling a hot wave of embarrassment underpinned with a taste of desire flow from her, he fought the urge to smile, instead sipping his coffee thoughtfully before answering her allegation.

“I’m sorry, Sarah dear, but I assure you, I did not show you my true form when you were in the Labyrinth. If you felt intimidated or… _aroused_ …in my presence, I can promise you, I had nothing to do with it,” he purred, his senses tuned in to the turmoil inside her.

“Oh…” she muttered, becoming intensely interested in her breakfast and refusing to look at him.

Smiling quietly, Jareth watched her reaction with amusement. Clearly, she had assumed he had bewitched her or himself when she was in his kingdom, and in truth, he had done neither. The fact that she had clearly been both intimidated and intrigued by him, was beneficial to his overall plan for her, as that would make bringing her under control and training her far easier. But then again, this was the girl who bested his Labyrinth, and even he knew it was best not to take anything forgranted, particularly anything associated with the Labyrinth – and as the Labyrinth Champion and Honorary Guardian, whether she knew it or not, Sarah was not just associated with the Labyrinth, she was now part of it.

For better or worse.

Breakfast continued amiably enough. Jareth was pleased to see Sarah relaxing a bit around him, even to the point of asking him questions about his work in the Aboveground. As they finished up, she put her cutlery down and gave him a searching look.

“Penny for them, Precious,” he said gently, looking up from his newspaper and smiling at her, relishing the faint pink that rushed to her cheeks. It was so easy to make her blush, he sincerely hoped she never outgrew that response to him.

“I…um… last night you said I had a ‘place’ in the Underground and your kingdom. I was wondering what you meant,” she muttered, unable to look into the sparkling blue eyes.

Folding his paper, Jareth laid it aside, then nodded. “I was wondering when you would ask about that, my dear,” he began. “The answer is both quite simple and inherently complex. Simply put, when you bested the Labyrinth, you became the Labyrinth Champion and Guardian of the Goblin Ha.”

She blinked in surprise, looking at him, “Champion? But…I’m not…I just… I can’t guard anything, Jareth. You know that.”

He chuckled, shaking his head gently. “Yes, Sarah, you can and you are, whether you know it or not. While the titles are in some ways merely ceremonial as far as the royal line of the kingdom and Underground go, they do confer upon you noble status within the Goblin Kingdom, which is recognized throughout the Underground. Even prior to accepting my contract, you were officially known within the Goblin Kingdom as ‘Lady Sarah Williams, Guardian of the Goblin Ha and most Revered Champion of the Labyrinth’. At the High Court of the Underground, you are now officially ‘Lady Sarah Williams, Guardian of the Goblin Ha, Champion of the Labyrinth and ward of the House of Tylwyth Teg’.”

“Whoa….” Sarah whispered, trying to take it all in. “But…I don’t know how to be a Lady or a Champion or any of that, Jareth,” she protested finally, her hand shaking as she tried to pick up her juice glass.

Tenderly he reached out and took the glass from her, then took her trembling hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I know, Precious. That is why I will teach you. In 3 months, you and Toby will be presented to the royal family and the court at the Yule Ball. At that time, Toby will be made a Prince of the Goblin Kingdom so that he can inherit the kingdom someday,” he said, smiling warmly at the way her eyes went wide and misted with tears at that.

“Y-you’d do that for Toby?” she muttered, looking at him in disbelief.

“Of course, Sarah. Had you not won the boy back the first time, I would have done so years ago,” Jareth said, puzzled by the wave of relief pouring off the girl. “I always planned to name young Toby my heir.”

“You weren’t going to make him a goblin, then?” she asked, biting her lip.

“Of course not,” Jareth laughed. “Goblins are born, not made. And I’ve more than enough goblins in my kingdom, Sarah!”

Looking sheepish, Sarah nodded, “Oh….” She sat quietly for a moment then frowned, “But, what about when you have children of your own. Won’t that put Toby’s life in danger?”

Chuckling Jareth squeezed her hand. “Relax, Precious, the royal line of the Underground is not quite as capricious and violent as your human royal families have been. The fact is, few in the Underground would want to rule the Goblin Kingdom. You’ve met my subjects, they are not the brightest, but they are loyal to a fault, and they fell in love with Toby the minute he arrived in the castle. Not one of them would see the lad harmed. He is the ideal choice.”

She smiled back, relieved and pleased that Toby had been so loved. “So does that mean I get to be a princess at the ball?” she asked with a grin.

Jareth sighed inwardly, this was not a question he really wanted to answer, as there were still too many threads of fate that had yet to be woven. Her smile faded when Jareth shook his head, “No pet…I’m afraid not. Toby is to be named my heir. In the Underground, that makes him my son in order to keep the royal line intact. There are two ways you could become a Princess, Sarah. I could officially adopt you, making you my daughter in the eyes of the court and kingdoms, or you could become a Princess by marrying into a royal family of the Underground.”

“Oh,” she muttered, her face dropping a bit. “I see.”

“I’m sorry, Precious,” he said gently. “I would that I could….”

“No…no…I understand,” she said, unable to look at him. How could she be so stupid, she thought, kicking herself mentally for even thinking such a thing. “I mean, yeah…it makes sense. You don’t want me for your daughter. That would just be…weird. And yeah… the whole marriage thing…yeah…sooooo not thinking about that.”

Jareth’s pale eyes shifted to darker blue as he felt the icy sensation of despondency emanating from the girl. She was taking this far harder than he thought.

 _‘Take her to wife and make her a Princess of the High Court and Consort to the next High King’_ – his mind growled, intensely disliking the deepening sadness that seemed to be twining itself around Sarah’s emotions until it was blotting out the other more pleasant feelings she had been having. _Wife. Wife? When did wife enter this conversation_?!... He thought irritably. Yes, the girl intrigued him and he couldn’t deny that as much as he loved the power he had over her and her training, part of him wanted to both see her happy and protect her. Given the way she responded to him, there was the burgeoning idea that she might accept him as both husband and king, but that would not happen by the time of the Yule Ball, he could not afford to rush her in that direction or she would balk like a skittish mare.

No, these things could not be rushed. But perhaps there was something else that would placate her in the meantime.

Sarah felt the warm squeeze of Jareth’s hand as she tried to pull her hand away. “Sarah…Precious, look at me,” he said, his voice warm and gentle.

Shaking her head she looked away, “Look…I feel stupid enough just let me go….”

“No, Sarah,” he said more firmly, his tone still gentle as his hand came up, tenderly caressing her cheek and tilting her face to look at him. “I need you to understand this. If you truly want me to take you as my daughter, then I will, but…I feel that will make things far too awkward between us at home.”

Numbly she nodded, feeling the familiar stinging in her eyes and she wasn’t quite sure why.

“But you need to know this too, as Guardian of the Goblin Ha, you are more powerful than a Princess of the Goblin Kingdom. In fact, the only people who hold more power in the kingdom are the King and Queen. And since I have no queen, when it comes to royal functions of my kingdom, the Guardian of the Goblin Ha acts as Queen Proxy,” he explained, relieved to feel the cold tendrils of despondency shift away from her as she started to understand. “That role is yours until such time as I take a queen.”

There it was again, that icy blast of despondence, pulling tightly around her emotions as she closed herself off from him.

“GeethankscanIgonow?” she muttered, dropping her gaze again. She pulled her hand from his and stood up, her chair nearly toppling over from the force.

Too late he realized he had overplayed his hand and made the situation worse.

“Yes, Sarah,” he said, sitting back with a resigned sigh. “Dinner will be in here at 6:15. Toby will be joining us tonight,” he added. “And Maeve my healer will come to your rooms at 11 to examine you, other than that, you are free to spend the day however you wish.”

Nodding, she left the room without a word.

Bloody stupid man, he sighed to himself as she left. He had to wonder if dealing with Sarah would ever be easy. No other female he had dealt with in the last three hundred years had been as frustrating as Sarah.

* * *

 

“It’s quite simple, Sarah. Your punishment is to look in the crystal,” Jareth said, leaning against the front of his desk and pointing at large crystal that was now sitting on a pedestal next to his desk.

Sarah looked at him in disbelief, then back at the crystal. It looked like a reasonably ordinary crystal, the surface shining and clear, held up by a carved marble dragon.

“I just have to look in a crystal. No spanking…or anything else? Just…look in a crystal?” she asked, clearly not convinced.

At that Jareth laughed, “Well, if you want a spanking, I will happily do it, but it would be purely for the fun of it.” He smirked at the way her cheeks turned crimson and she shook her head frantically, the faint scent of her desire on the air and the tendril of arousal that teased through him, giving her true feelings on the matter away.

“That wasn’t what I meant, and you know it,” she muttered, crossing her arms over her chest and glaring at him. “I meant…what’s the catch? This is you. There has to be a catch.”

“No catch, Precious. This is a special crystal. Only the person looking into it can see the images it contains. I want you to simply look into it and see yourself with the purple hair and think about _why_ that was inappropriate, both because you were being willfully disobedient and what that hair color signifies Underground. Understand?” he asked, sitting a comfortable chair in front of the crystal.

Still frowning, Sarah looked from Jareth to the crystal, sure that there was something he wasn’t telling her. Slowly she walked over and looked at the pillow, then at Jareth. “I understand, but I still get the impression that you aren’t telling me something.”

He merely laughed and nodded toward the chair, “Just sit and think. The crystal will do the rest.”

Sighing she sunk down on the chair and started to get comfortable before looking into the crystal and thinking about what he had told her to consider, while Jareth turned away from her and went back to his desk to work. She shut her eyes for a moment to pull up the image of herself with purple hair, before opening them again and gasping. The image in the crystal had shifted, showing herself with the purple hair, just like she had imagined. Sarah could hear Jareth chuckle softly from his desk and blushed, her blush deepening as the image in the crystal shifted again. She still had purple hair, but her clothing had changed to a filmy purple silk that was nearly sheer. The material was held by small golden clasps on her shoulders, and thin golden chains at her hips, dropping to mid-thigh, but was entirely open otherwise – and considering how sheer the material was, she felt her face heat up to realize she was completely nude underneath it. Around her neck was a wide golden collar with the royal sigil of the Goblin King on the front in silver and jewels. There were two fine chains attached to the center of the collar, leading down to her wrists, where matching golden cuffs were locked in place.

With a gasp, Sarah glanced down at her clothes, relieved to find that she was still wearing her jeans and the light cashmere sweater she had put on for dinner, yet when she looked back in the crystal she once again saw the fine golden chains and silk. The Sarah in the crystal was a pleasure slave. Jareth’s, pleasure slave.

Sarah shivered, biting her lip as she looked at herself and saw the image start to move.

Jareth watched her out of the corner of his eye until she gasped and looked down at herself, then blushed deeply. Oh yes, the crystal was working precisely as it should, showing her the full implications of what that hair color signified. He was rather pleased with this little punishment, although he couldn’t take full credit for it, as his mother had done something similar to him, once upon a time, to show him what his life would have been like without his younger brothers and sisters. Suffice it to say, the outcome would have been far less appealing than the life he now led.

Smiling, he turned his attention back to his work, sure in the knowledge that Sarah would be engrossed in the enchanted images for some time and almost wishing he could see what she would. While he had prepped the crystal for her punishment, after the initial image of herself clothed as a proper pleasure slave, anything else she might see was being pulled from her own imagination. Given the tantalizing scent of arousal now drifting toward him, he was quite sure that her own imagination would be offering up some images that he would find most illuminating.

Doing his best to ignore the scent of desire and embarrassment coming from Sarah, Jareth returned to signing invitations to the Yule Ball. Although he could have his major domo do such a task, he had been raised to believe that where political functions were concerned, the personal touch was best. And despite what Abovegrounders might think of royal functions like balls, they were always as much political as they were social, especially this one, as there would likely be some resistance to his naming a changeling mortal as his heir. Not to mention the fact that his mother had already informed him that a selection of potential brides would be presented to him on the night. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair and leaned back, watching Sarah stare entranced into the crystal. He was quite sure he knew the ‘suitable’ potential brides his mother would parade in front of him, and he wanted no part of any of them. To a one they were vain, spoiled, petulant, or dull. Not one had a spark of adventure or imagination about them and there was no way he could see tying himself to any of them for eternity.

Then there was the matter of Sarah.

He had told her the truth about why he could not name her a Princess of the realm. Not only that, but since the morning, he had given more thought to the idea of taking her as Queen, and the idea had  merit. The goblins adored her. She had more imagination and sense of adventure than any of the suitable women his mother would pick. And she was already of royal status, making her eligible to be considered. Add to that the enticing way she responded to him, and he could really see her coming around to the idea. However, after her reactions that morning, he had learned to tread carefully where a future with Sarah was concerned. Clearly, she didn’t care of the idea of him taking a Queen; that much was clear, even if she didn’t understand it herself. All he had to do was bide his time.

Arching an eyebrow he watched as Sarah started to squirm on the chair, her breath hitching in her throat as the scent of arousal grew stronger. Dropping his shielded emotions a bit further, he sought out hers, only to be knocked back in his chair with the overpowering wave of lust and confusion that poured from her. He found himself panting along with her, despite being unable to see what images she was being shown. Clenching his teeth against a groan, he felt himself harden instantly, the sensation of his sensitive flesh brushing against the silk of his suit pants, almost unbearable. _Gods above! What is the girl imagining?!_ he wondered.

For her part, Sarah was oblivious, both to the fact that the images were being crafted from the desires in her own heart and mind, but also to the way her body’s reaction was affecting Jareth. Every thread of her attention was consumed with doing one thing and one thing only – watching the images playing out in the crystal.

They had started out simple enough, the images shifting like a series of short movies, each only a few seconds long. First a flash of herself kneeling at Jareth’s feet as he sat on the bed, her head bowed as he stroked her cheek. Then it changed, showing her laying over his lap as he spanked her, the thin silk bunched around her waist, allowing him to spank her bare flesh. But the Jareth in the crystal didn’t just spank her, he caressed her bum, teasing his fingers over the ivory curves before dipping between her thighs. She felt her cheeks burn when she realized that this spanking was not for punishment, and by the way the Sarah in the crystal squirmed, she was enjoying it. The image shifted again, finding her standing close to him in what must be the castle, as he was wearing the flowing shirt and tight breeches he had been wearing when he cornered her in the tunnels under the Labyrinth. His hand trailed up the silken material covering her until he cupped her breast as she undressed him. She swore she could feel his touch as she watched, then the image changed once more, showing the crystal Sarah nude under him as he slid into her waiting body.

“Enough!” she squeaked, shutting her eyes as she pushed away from the crystal.

Twisting as she pushed back, Sarah ended up on her knees in front of Jareth, as he looked at her in surprise. He felt the surge of lust and confusion get stronger still, as the scent of her arousal seemed to blanket him. Dropping his magical protection from her emotions, he searched for the link and didn’t have to look far as the feeling of desire and fear slammed into him so hard it took his breath away.

“I can’t…I just…please…” she stammered, finally looking up at him, her green eyes wide and pleading. “Don’t make me look anymore. I can’t stand it,” she whimpered.

Jareth reached forward to touch her cheek, his fingers lightly grazing the trembling girl as he recognized the feeling. She was right on the edge of release. Whatever she had been watching had driven her right to the edge without a single touch, her arousal causing his own body to respond strongly. Without a thought he nodded, “Go.”

As she bolted from the room he hoped the feeling would dissipate, but if anything it got worse. Within minutes he was trembling as badly as she had been, his hands tight around the arms of his desk chair as he fought for some measure of control. The moment he dropped his shields to sample her emotions, he had lost all control, his own body responding to the frantic state of her own. Unable to move, or bring up his own shields again, he had no choice but to ride out the emotions until Sarah calmed down. That’s when he felt it, the agonizingly pleasurable tightening in his stomach that always heralded release. “No!” he gasped, in shock, the release surging from him in heated jets as he shuddered against the leather of his desk chair, his mouth open and gasping at the force of the sensations washing over him. He was only dimly aware of the keening cry that drifted into the open window from Sarah’s rooms above.

Panting he looked down at the dampness spreading across the front of his suit trousers, still unable to believe it. He hadn’t spilled himself like that, untouched or with such force since he was a teen, still learning the ways of the flesh.

“By the Gods, it smells like a forest nymph whore house in here, Jareth!”

Jareth looked up startled, his eyes narrowing angrily at being disturbed while his libido (confused though it was at the moment) demanded that he bog whoever had the audacity to barge into his office unannounced. Seeing his healer Maeve standing in front of his desk, he relaxed again, still giving her an irritated scowl. “I’d invite you in, Maeve, but it would seem you’ve invited yourself,” he quipped, shaking his head as she dropped a pair of lounging pants on his desk, her mischievous silver eyes flashing.

“Go ahead and change, Jareth,”she said, glancing at the stain spreading on his trousers, before dropping into a chair with a sigh. She snapped her fingers and created a small pouffle footstool, then propped her worn boots up on it. “It isn’t like I haven’t seen your bits and bobs, before,” Maeve laughed, making herself comfortable.

“Be that as it may,” the Goblin King replied with a droll smile, snapping his fingers and refreshing both his clothing and his body in the same instant. “You aren’t here to examine me…or my bits, tonight, Maeve.”

He watched as Maeve inhaled deeply and chuckled. “Aye, my boy, that I’m not. But mark my words, you’re going to have to do something about that young lass of yours. If she gets wound any tighter you’ll have serious problems on your hands.”

Were it anyone else, he’d be most offended by her use of his given name, but seeing as how she had not only seen him into the world but his parents as well, and would likely live long enough to see his grandchildren safely draw their first breath, she could be forgiven her overly-familiar address. Jareth frowned, pulling a cup of tea of his own from the air, as he flicked his hand and locked the door of his study to keep out other members of the house.

“I’m quite sure her being ‘wound up’ as you so eloquently put it, had to do with the punishment I gave her for dying her hair against my orders,” he replied with a shrug, a cool breeze drifting into his office from the open window and carrying the heady scent of Sarah’s arousal out of the room.

Still chuckling, Maeve shook her head, silver tendrils of hair curling over her shoulders as they fell out of her haphazard bun, “If only it were that simple, Jareth. Your young charge is moving toward l’hrev at a frantic pace, that’s what is causing the problems with her lungs. Once the change is complete, that will stop, but there is no telling when her change will finish and her lungs are the least of your problems.”

Jareth set down his tea, his eyes darkening as he glared at the elderly goblin, “Maeve, She is a mortal changeling, her time of change should not come until she is bonded fully to a Fae.”

“Aye, that is what I thought too, until I examined her. I may be old, but I don’t make mistakes about things like this, Jareth. That girl is on the cusp of her first change as a full Fey, marking her as a breeding female in our society. If you don’t get a handle on the mating scent she is already starting to put out, you’re going to have every magical being on this plane showing up on your doorstep trying to claim the girl,” Maeve said, pulling a tea biscuit from the air and munching on it.

Jareth gritted his teeth, his fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. _Of course, she would manage to be different than any other changeling, this is Sarah we are dealing with after all,_ he thought in irritation.

“How long do we have before she fully enters l’hrev?” he asked, his tea forgotten on his desk as he tried to remember what had happened when his sisters had begun their first change phase. Ordinarily such matters were handled by the eldest female of the family, but as there was no elder Fey female in his household, that left him two options – deal with it himself or bring his mother in to manage Sarah’s change. Of the two, he’d rather deal with it himself than let his mother have any say in training Sarah for Fey society.

Maeve plucked another cookie from the air and shrugged. “Hard to say, Jareth. Since she started as a mortal changeling, her own fertile cycles are likely to interfere. I’ve only seen one mortal changeling of noble status within the Underground in all my years. Her first change happened when she was far older than Sarah, and she was already bonded and married at the time. At a guess, I suspect that Sarah’s cycles will become stronger, heightening her natural emotional and hormonal reactions during that time,” she said, then gave the Goblin King a wicked grin. “And if you don’t know much about the moon cycles of mortal girls, let me just clue you in, your majesty, in teen girls the emotional upheavals can be tremendous. With Sarah going through her first change at the same time, well… let’s just say I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes.”

Jareth shut his eyes and groaned inwardly as he muttered, “Terrific. Just what I needed… a hyper-emotional and hormonal mortal changeling. What else could go wrong?”

“Well for starters, in that state, she is likely to be more fertile than the average human or Fey female. So I’d either suggest you commission a chastity belt for the girl, or lock her in a well-guarded tower,” Maeve chuckled with a teasing grin, only to cackle as Jareth glared at her testily.

“Blast it all, Maeve, you’ve met the girl. She would fight tooth and nail if I mentioned even the merest hint of locking her into a chastity belt or tower --  Even if it was for her own safety!” he grumbled, starting to pace around his study, muttering angrily to himself. Finally he stopped and looked at Maeve. “Can anything be done to dampen the scent, Maeve?”

Maeve sipped her tea thoughtfully, “Well, the obvious answer is to claim the girl yourself. Once she is bonded, then the chemical signature that she puts out will only be noticed by you.”

His scowl deepened as he shook his head, “Not an option…at least not by the time of her first change cycle. Any other ideas?”

Shrugging, Maeve got up from her chair, sending the pouffle back to her cottage Underground with a clap of her hands. “The problem is both her own hormones and her emotional reactions to desire. If they continue to build up like they have been, her very scent will act as the beacon. And from what I smelled and saw when I came in,” she added, giving Jareth a cheeky grin, “her scent and emotions will play havoc with you via your familial link. The only way I can see to dampen that is to ensure that the girl gets release, either by her own hand, yours or that of another.”

Frowning, Jareth sunk into his chair as Maeve disappeared.

Frowning, Jareth sunk into his chair as Maeve disappeared. He knew Maeve was right, and this was the only option open to him, but all the same, this was not a conversation he looked forward to having with Sarah. With a quiet sigh, he tapped his teacup and turned it into a glass of whiskey and opened his link to Sarah. He was relieved to feel that her desire had all but disappeared, in fact, she appeared to be calm and relaxed, with no trace of the powerful scent of arousal from earlier. Perhaps it wouldn’t be as bad as Maeve made it sound.

Yes. And goblins might sprout feathers and fly.

 

 

 


	9. Revelations, Ruminations and Reunions

**Fifty Shades of Fey**

**_CH 9 – Revelations, Ruminations and Reunions_ **

It was past midnight when Jareth was finally able to retire to his room after finishing with work, both for his Aboveground interests and overseeing his kingdom. Humming idly to himself he changed into his comfortable lounging pants, and settled himself against a stack of pillows propped against the carved headboard of his bed. This was usually his favourite time of day, the solitary hour of quiet in the middle of the night, which he could use to unwind. Prior to Sarah and Toby joining his household, he frequently would retire to his bed to read, or check in with his extended family Underground, however with the arrival of his wards, he had taken to using the nighttime solitude to check in on their emotions and needs via his link.

Toby was easy, Jareth thought with a warm smile. The boy was happy in his new life. He was thoroughly content, learning rapidly, and currently dreaming about riding a dinosaur through the labyrinth in the back garden. Sarah, as always, was another matter entirely.

True, she was happy enough now that she had settled into a routine of sorts, but the level of confusion he felt from her on a daily basis was a concern. Pursing his lips thoughtfully he conjured a simple crystal and began to pass it over his hands, watching the shimmering skin as it rolled easily from hand to hand and back again, swirling over the backs of this hands, to his fingertips, then dipping downward and twirling up once more. Sarah was a puzzle. He couldn’t fully understand why she felt such confusion. Thus far he had resisted the urge to use his crystals and peer into her rooms when she was alone or to observe her dreams. While it was perfectly within his right as the head of the household, he didn’t feel justified to eavesdrop into her life when she was still trying to find her feet in this new world. Pausing the crystal’s swirling, he looked into it, Sarah’s face slowly starting to come into focus, before he growled at himself and set the crystal to spinning again, faster than before.

“No…I will not give in,” he muttered to himself. “Blast that girl. Why must she be so hard to understand. I mean, what’s to be confused about?”

The words sounded hollow in his ears, as he knew perfectly well what she had to be confused about. If anything, his suspicions were becoming more likely by the day. Clearly, her primary source of confusion was him – or more precisely the way he made her feel.

Part of him took immense pride in the fact that he could illicit such a reaction from the girl, as it just proved the level of power he had over her, without having to manipulate her to get it. But another part of him was perplexed, as the confusion she felt often gave way to sadness and it was her sadness he couldn’t abide. While the girl may have turned him down and unknowingly stolen power from him when she claimed victory over his Labyrinth, he did not like to feel her sadness. Oddly enough, as much as she infuriated him, he wanted to protect her from being sad, to see to her happiness. It was this thought that plagued him the most, and kept him awake at night, debating whether it would be kinder to the girl to send her away to school after all.

“Perhaps it would be for the best,” he mused, no longer watching the spinning crystal as it rolled the familiar paths of his hands. “If she is not around me, then her confusion would cease.”

Twenty-four hours ago, that had seemed the best option, but with the news Maeve had given him, sending her away might put her in more danger from others, should her first change phase occur while she was away. Magic and sexuality were inherently linked for the Fey, and if Sarah was truly entering her first change cycle as a full Fey, it was highly likely that her magic would begin to manifest itself – possibly with unpredictable results since there was no way to guess what magical specialty she might have.

Shaking his head he sighed, “No…she must stay here, for the moment at least. I can’t bind her magic until it begins to manifest itself. Then…then I can send her away.”

It seemed to be the best course of action. So why then did the thought of sending her away make his heart ache?

His musing was interrupted by his bedroom door flying open and thudding against the wall as an irate Sarah stepped into the room, then slammed the door shut.

“Where the fuck do you get off, Jareth?!” she demanded, her green eyes flashing angrily as she stood at the foot of his bed, in her Bowie t-shirt, with a pair of flannel boxers just peeking under the hem, her hands on her hips.

Angry though she was, he felt a familiar flush of warm run through him at the sight of her – she was beautiful. Just as quickly as he felt the rush of desire, he smelled and felt the intensity of her fury, bitter ashes burning his nose and turning his stomach. Clamping the link shut, his eyes narrowed as she continued to yell at him, his expression darkening from one of surprise at the intrusion, to irritation at being accused of something.

“Sarah… I don’t know what has got your knickers in a twist, but you can just march right back out that door and knock properly,” he said, his tone low and firm. “I don’t barge into your bedroom in the middle of the night hurling abuse, so I would expect you to show me the same respect.”

“Respect?! Y’know what…Fuck you, Jareth! And fuck the rules. I want to know where you get off fucking with my mind in that damn punishment of yours,” she demanded angrily. “It’s one thing to remind me what I was implying with the purple hair, but to fuck with my mind by planting those images! You’re a creep. A pervert! And asshole and I hate you!” she raged.

Having had enough of her verbal abuse, Jareth grabbed the crystal he had been spinning so hard it shattered into shimmering flakes of golden glitter. His eyes flashed darkly her as he stood from the bed.

“You had _best_ mind your tone, Precious,” he hissed as he stalked toward her. “And get your facts _straight_ before you come in here and start accusing me of things I didn’t do.”

As he towered over her, Sarah felt herself shrink a bit. He was angry, clearly so. She could feel his magic buzzing around him, snapping and crackling with energy that seemed barely contained. He was always so tightly controlled and this was the first time she had ever seen him show the slightest hint of losing control, and it was not a sensation that she particularly liked.

His lips curled into a sardonic smirk as he glared down at her, “The images you saw were drawn from your _own_ mind. So if they were objectionable or… _arousing_ … you have no one to blame but yourself. If you were having illicit thoughts about being my pleasure slave that is hardly _my_ fault, Sarah.”

Jareth watched as the anger in her eyes slowly shifted to embarrassment and her cheeks flushed pink at his words.

“Oh…” she murmured, her mouth slightly open in surprise.

He gave her a quiet smirk and purred, “I take it from your outburst that you _were_ having such thoughts, hmm? That would explain your rather abrupt need to exit my office.”

Her blush deepened at his words, but she knew better than to deny it. Jareth was torn when he caught the growing scent of her arousal again. On the one hand, it was a powerful testament to the images she had seen and her own desires for him, that merely the verbal reminder of them should incite her body to react; at the same time he cursed himself for pushing her to it, knowing full well that her desires were only going to cause more problems as she moved closer to l’hrev. As much as it pained him to do so, he had to settle her down again, or neither of them would see sleep this night.

“Please…I can’t look at that again,” she said, her words nearly a whisper. “It…it feels wrong.”

Jareth frowned as she dropped her head, this was not the response he was expecting. Without stopping to consider his actions, he reached out, his hand lightly cupping her cheek, caressing it. “Desire in and of itself is never wrong, Sarah, so long as no one is hurt by it.”

Shaking her head, her eyes still downcast she murmured, “I…I shouldn’t want those…things. You’re…well fuck…my guardian, Jareth. It’s wrong.”

His heart ached at the broken sound in her voice, the scent of desire being replaced by confusion once more. Dealing with Sarah and her emotions was going to be far harder than he had anticipated. With a sigh he leaned in and kissed her forehead, her breath catching in her throat at the display of affection and tenderness.

“Oh Sarah, Precious… it is not your fault,” he sighed, tilting her head up to look at him. “There are things at play here that are feeding your emotions and desires, making them stronger.”

She looked at him, her jade eyes narrowing in confusion.

Jareth groaned inwardly. He did not want to have this discussion just now, but as fate would have it, now it would be. It was going to be a very long night. He only hoped she would understand and not hold him to blame when she knew the whole of it.

 

* * *

 

Late the next afternoon, Sarah was lounging in a large lawn chair under the gazebo, listening to Toby squealing as he was chased around his own little play castle by a fluffy little yappy dog. She sighed as she watched the two of them and found that she was a little jealous of Toby. He was happy here. She supposed it was because he was little, he didn’t have the baggage that she did relating to their parents, but also to Jareth.

Her baggage, where Jareth was concerned, was proving to be a bit of a problem in fact. She cringed remembering the awkward conversation they had in the middle of the night. It was awkward and embarrassing, both from the topic of her ‘blossoming’ sexuality as far as Fey biomechanics was concerned, but also the fact that the conversation was conducted while sitting on Jareth’s bed of all places, with him half-dressed, wearing only lounging pants and her in her pajamas. It was just all so… embarrassing.

He had patiently explained about l’hrev and the physical changes that it marked for Fey women in particular. That hadn’t been too bad, and it had been kind of interesting learning about the way that Fey responded to smells. It didn’t get awkward until he mentioned her ‘moon cycles’ as if it was the most natural thing in the world to discuss. At first she didn’t know what he was talking about, then it dawned on her. Even now her stomach flopped and she felt her face burn hotly. The last thing she _ever_ expected to have to discuss with Jareth…her guardian…and the Goblin King…was her period. Groaning she buried her face in her arms, still haunted by the embarrassment. To his credit, Jareth had been serious about the whole thing, his whole manner being matter-of-fact and not teasing or malicious in the slightest. He had merely warned her that the emotional upheaval might be worse and he wanted her to be prepared. She was vaguely surprised by the way he dealt with the whole thing, quiet and reassuring, even going so far as to tell her that she could always come to him with questions or for help, and he would do his best or find someone who could assist.

Sarah thumped her head on the table. There is no way in hell she was _ever_ going to discuss her period or sex with Jareth after last night. No. No way. No how. That was _not_ going to happen. She’d sooner die first. It was bad enough that he had actually told her that she should masturbate.

_“Sarah… I know that young women of your age in the Above are, well, sexually active or mature,” he said, as Sarah’s eyes opened wide, her blush deepening. Surely he wasn’t really expecting her to tell him about her sex life. Then he continued, “Maeve assures me you are still untouched.”_

_“Jarth! I am not going to discuss my sex-life with you!” she protested, covering her face with her hands, then getting angry. “Besides, whatever happened to, I don’t know, healer-patient confidentiality?!”_

_He merely smiled and shook his head, “That does not apply where the royal family is concerned. As the head of this household, Maeve reports to me where the health and well-being of my family is concerned and that includes you, Sarah.”_

_Sarah moaned, running her hand through her hair. “Look, discussing my…moon cycles… is humiliating enough. Can we just not discuss my sex life. There isn’t one. That is all you need to know.”_

_“I am aware of that, Sarah and that is why we need to discuss it,” he insisted, in that infuriatingly reasonable tone of voice._

_“Why?” she asked, flopping down on the foot of his bed and cringing at the pleading sound in her own voice._

_“Because your lack of a sex life is going to make problems as l’hrev happens,” he replied, reaching out to take her hand. Sarah flinched away from him, drawing her knees against her chest and wrapping her arms around them as she glared at him._

_“It almost sounds like you are encouraging me to get a sex life?” she muttered with a frown._

_He smiled and shook his head, “No, Precious. Quite the opposite. Look, I don’t want to discuss the desires that you hide in your own head. Those are your private thoughts, but rest assured, that as l’hrev sets in, your private thoughts will have very real consequences unless you learn to deal with them.”_

_She tilted her head and looked at him, wrinkling her nose up as she tried to understand what he was saying._

_“Sarah, l’hrev will take the normal feelings of desire you may have, and magnify them. That in and of itself is not a bad thing, but as a new Fey l’hrev will result in an increased pheromone signature. That signature calls to nearby males who are in some way magical. The more desire you feel, the stronger that signature will be,” he explained._

_As his words registered, she looked at him in horror, “I’m going to go into heat?! Like some animal?” she squeaked in outrage._

_He sighed and nodded, “That is probably the closest description for human understanding. Yes, Sarah.”_

_“Oh Gods! Take it back. I didn’t ask to be Fey anyway!” she protested, jumping up again and pacing his bedroom. “It’s not fair!”_

_“Sarah, relax, l’hrev is normal for our people. If you were bonded to be married to a Fey, it would cease to be a problem as only your future husband would be able to sense the signature from you. But as you are not bonded, you will have to deal with it yourself,” he said._

_“Can’t you do something? Fix it or something?” she asked, pausing her pacing to look at him hopefully, then shivering at the dark smile that flickered in his eyes before disappearing as he shook his head._

_“I’m sorry, Precious…but I fear that you don’t really want me to fix it for you,” he said, his expression guarded as his voice was tight, like he was hiding something. “The only way I can truly ‘fix it’ as you so eloquently put it, is for me to claim you, bond you to me as my future wife and mate.”_

_Sarah blinked, her eyes wide, then she shook her head, “Nope. No. You did not just suggest that. Take it back,” she demanded, while a little voice in her head cheered at the very idea. She locked that little voice up and gagged it, pushing it down into the furthest recesses of her mind._

_At her words, Jareth’s teasing tone abruptly vanished, and she felt an odd pang of sadness rush through her, confusing her since she didn’t feel sad about anything she could name. Just as quickly as she felt it, it disappeared, at the same time Jareth’s eyes flashed a brilliant silver, before turning stormy grey._

_“Fine,” he said, pulling back away from her, his whole demeanor changing, becoming distant. “The only other option is to deal with the physicality of it, and from your previous outburst, I am quite sure you don’t wish my help in relieving your desires. You see, in order to minimize the scent signature you will put off, you need to find…release.”_

_Her stomach fluttered when he said that, and she blushed realizing what she had just asked him to do. “Release?” she muttered, her voice cracking._

_“Yes. Release…,” he said, his expression unreadable. Sarah felt a niggling ball of disquiet settle in her stomach, making her shiver. Something was wrong, she was sure of it. Any other time she would have fully expected him to smirk at her, or give her ‘that look’, the one that made her immediately think of his lips on tender parts of her flesh. But he didn’t even give the slightest hint of a smile, just looked at her as if she was no more to him than another nuisance in his life. Then he continued, “You should seek release as often as you can manage when the desires build. Maeve says that should dampen the scent signature enough to keep us from having a deluge of magical males arriving on the doorstep seeking your bed.”_

_Sarah’s face burned hotly at that. “There’s no other way?”_

_He shrugged, “Short of locking you in a chastity belt and putting you in the tallest tower of the Goblin Castle, none that I can see. Mind you, I have no problem commissioning a chastity belt if that is the option you choose.” At the angry look she shot him, the Goblin King shrugged coldly again. “I thought you might not like that idea, which is precisely why I didn’t offer it in the first place. Basically Precious, you have to do this yourself…unless you’ve changed your mind about my help?”_

At that she had stormed out of his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind her. In hindsight, she seemed to do quite a bit of storming out of rooms that Jareth was in -- which made sense, considering how infuriating the Fey male was.

She nibbled the eraser of her pencil trying to wrap her head around the fact that the Goblin King had actually told her to masturbate…often. It was such a strange turn of events that she almost wasn’t sure it had happened, but considering the odd smile he gave her at breakfast and the wicked grin he gave her when Mrs. Brown asked about the slamming doors coming from his wing last night, she was reasonably sure the conversation had actually happened.

Turning her attention to the yard and away from her muddled thoughts, Sarah watched Toby and the little dog play their game. The little dog would stop and stand his ground as Toby tried to cross the pebbled ‘river’ around, yapping furiously like he was talking. When Toby would run past him across the little bridge of stones, the little dog would chase after him, yipping and barking wildly. As far as the both of them were concerned, it seemed to be a great game, since they had been playing it for the past hour. Knowing who their mysterious benefactor was, she was sure it was no mere coincidence that the little dog’s name was apparently ‘Diddums’, particularly since the little animal acted remarkably like Sir Didymus, even though they had been told that he was Mrs. Brown’s pet. Sarah turned back down to the sketch pad she had been idly doodling on and saw that she had drawn both Diddums and Didymus. With a flick of her pencil she added a bit more bushiness to Sir Didymus’ eyebrows and tail, giving him more of a rakish air. Elsewhere on the page were sketches of Ludo and Hoggle, including a small sketch of the three of them lounging on her bed playing Scrabble during the party in her room after her return from the Labyrinth. That was the last time she had seen them. After that night, she couldn’t bear to call for them. At the same time that she was afraid that they wouldn’t come and prove it had all been a dream, she was also afraid that they _would_ come, and give ‘Him’ a way back into her life, and power over her.

She gave sad laugh, a lance of pain sliding through her heart. Jareth still ended up with power over her, so she abandoned them for nothing.

“Those sketches are quite good,” said the cultured voice behind her.

Blushing, Sarah glanced up to find Jareth standing behind her chair, still in the crisp suit he had been wearing when she saw him leave for London in the morning.

“Um…thanks,” she managed to mutter, before turning to watch Toby come racing over, with Diddums hot on his trail.

“Gareth!” Toby squealed, launching himself at the Goblin King’s legs. For his part, Jareth merely stooped slightly and scooped the young boy up before Toby actually tackled him.

“Hello, my boy,” Jareth grinned, swinging the boy up in to his arms and giving him a hug. “Were you a good boy for nanny today?”

Toby nodded, chattering in rapid-fire staccato about his day, while Jareth nodded seriously, as if he actually understood what Toby was trying to say. Eventually Jareth set the boy down, affectionately ruffling his hair. “You and Diddums should go inside and get washed up for supper. Nanny will get you ready,” he said, while Toby beamed at him.

“I gonna eat with you and King tonight, Sarah,” he chirped, grinning at her.

“Yes, you are. So you’d better go get ready,” Sarah said, arching an eyebrow in Jareth’s direction when Toby had run off toward his Nanny standing in the doorway of the house. “King?” she asked.

Jareth merely shrugged and smiled at her, “He sees through the guise, much like you, Sarah.” Reaching over her shoulder, he lightly ran his fingers over the page of her sketch pad, moving it so he could see better. “Quite the good likeness of your friends,” he commented.

Sarah sighed and looked at the images, “I suppose, although I don’t know that they’d count me as a friend anymore.”

“Why not?” he asked, sitting down next to her.

She frowned and absently added more fur to the sketch of Ludo, her heart aching at the memory of his lopsided grin. “It’s my fault,” she finally admitted, unwilling to look at him. “I never called for them. I told them I needed them. That I’d always need them, and…then I abandoned them.”

Jareth reached over and squeezed her hand gently, “Sarah, there is no statute of limitations on friendship. Call them. I am sure you will find that they will love you now, as they did the last time you spoke.”

With that he got up and walked off, leaving Sarah somewhat dumbfounded. Every time she thought she had a handle on just what Jareth was like, he did something that made her have to rethink everything. Looking up she watched the crystal above the maze twinkle in the late afternoon sunlight and nodded. Maybe he was right. It couldn’t hurt to try.

 

* * *

 

At 7 o’clock sharp, Sarah knocked on the door of Jareth’s study, her stomach rolling miserably at the thought of having to look into the crystal again. When the door opened, she was surprised to see that the large crystal was nowhere in sight. There was only Jareth, dressed in a sleek grey suit, standing in the open French doors leading out onto the back patio, his gloved hands clasped behind his back.

“I think tonight, we will forego your punishment in favor of a little walk in the yard,” he said, not even turning to look at her, his tone smooth and melodic, but just as distant as it had been last night.

“Um…sure,” she replied, joining him by the doors. “I…I think I’d like that.”

Nodding, Jareth gestured toward the patio, “After you, my dear.”

The two of them walked silently for some time, lost in their own thoughts. For his part, Jareth was relieved that the overpowering scent of desire and fear were missing from the girl. She seemed preoccupied, but he felt a strong scent of relief from her when he suggested a walk instead of the rest of her punishment. After a bit, she broke the silence, her voice quiet as their feet upon the crushed pebble path skirting the floral hedge maze to the side of the gardens.

“So… I guess I should thank you,” she muttered, quickly glancing at him, then looking away toward the flowers in the lavish beds around them.

Jareth noted the way she avoided his gaze, and felt a dull ache start in his chest. The blasted girl was a confusing mess of emotional contradictions. At times he feared she would be the end of him. Physically it was clear that she wanted him, yet her response to his comment about claiming her made it quite clear that she did not want him fully. Pursing his lips, he shoved the pain away, focusing solely upon the moment at hand and her training.

“You’re welcome, Sarah. But you need to understand, punishment is about learning the lesson, not torturing someone you care about. From your reaction last night, I am quite sure you have learned the lesson, therefore there is no reason to continue. So, I thought we might do something more enjoyable with our time this evening.”

“Care? I mean…you do?” she asked.

Pausing on the path, Jareth looked at her, tilting his head in the owlish way of his. “Despite what you may think about my motives, Sarah, everything I have ever done for you was done because I care.”

He sighed inwardly as she frowned, her jade eyes narrowing at him. The Goblin King knew exactly what she as thinking of.

“Yes, Sarah…even taking Toby was an act of care,” he said, smirking a bit at the petulant way she crossed her arms over her chest at that. When she opened her mouth to speak, he merely held up his hand. “Let me finish, Precious. Toby was never in any danger, nor were you. The point to the Labyrinth is to help those who wish someone away come to see their culpability and fault. Most do not see that they have done anything wrong, but some, like you, learn not only what they did wrong, but grow to see how much love you are capable of. And within all of that, you and Toby were a special case, your love and belief called to me to help you, to ensure that you would benefit as much as possible from my Labyrinth…and you did. You blossomed, did you not?”

Sarah nibbled her lip, considering his words. As much as she hated to admit it, she had changed for the better after her journey. She realized that she had been taking her anger at her on mother out on her stepmother, and that wasn’t fair. When she returned, she made more of an effort, eventually finding that she was closer to her stepmother than she had been her on mother. And her relationship with Toby had definitely changed, she spent hours playing with him and reading to him, until she had become a second mother to him. Even her relationship with her father improved after her time in the Labyrinth.

“Yeah..okay…I might have changed for the better, but how do you explain the Cleaners and the drugged peach. Hmm?” she asked, her dark eyes issuing a clear challenge.

The corner of Jareth’s mouth twitched into a sly smirk as his eyes twinkled. “The Cleaners were a means to an end, they put you in the Wiseman’s garden, leading you away from the castle,” he replied with a shrug. “Admittedly, they might seem frightening, but in reality, they would not have hurt you, and Hogwart knows all of the secret passages in that area of the Labyrinth, I knew he’d get you out.” His eyes flickered wickedly as he smiled at her, making her stomach flutter. “As for the peach… if I didn’t care, I would have given you a far more _adult_ fantasy, rather than plucking one from your own dreams.”

At the mention of an ‘adult’ fantasy, Sarah blushed, the crimson stain visible in the clear moonlight shimmering over the gardens. Biting her lip she looked at the ground, unable to meet his eyes, as her stomach did somersaults at the thought of what such a fantasy might have looked like.

They walked further along in silence then turning, Jareth walked into the heart of the garden labyrinth. Sarah gasped at what she saw, having been unaware that as they talked, he had been leading her deeper into the maze. At the heart of the garden labyrinth was a circular section, with only one entrance. The walls of the area were dotted with carved marble benches and large urns filled with exotic flowers unlike any Sarah had ever seen. In the center of the area was a large fountain, with a purple marble plinth in the center, atop which sat the lovely crystal she could see from her bedroom.

“It’s gorgeous, Jareth,” she murmured, pausing a moment before daring to step deeper into the interior garden. “It’s like a garden within a garden.”

He chuckled and followed her in. “Indeed it is, more true than you know,” he said, walking toward the fountain. Jareth paused, and pulled off one of his gloves, then leaned toward the shimmering water. Scooping up a handful of water he tossed it at the green wall of the garden and muttered a word Sarah couldn’t understand. As soon as the word left his lips, the leaves of the wall began to twitch and stretch, transforming into a heavy wooden door carved with the Goblin King’s sigil.

“In fact, this garden is an annex of the Goblin Kings private gardens,” he said, placing his bare hand upon the door, where it glowed a brilliant purple, then the door slowly opened.

Seeing Sarah hesitate on the far side of the fountain, he smiled. “Relax, Sarah. I do not expect you to enter my private gardens or the Underground, at least not tonight. Rather, I have brought you…a gift.”

The Goblin King stepped back from the door as the view of lush gardens inside darkened, until a familiar orange-red beast squeezed his way through.

“Ludo!” Sarah gasped, then rushed forward to hug the great beast as Hoggle and Sir Didymus followed Ludo through the small door.

“I say…it is good to see you so well, my Lady,” chirped Sir Didymus with a smile, until she flew at him and scooped him into a hug.

Hoggle was the last through the door, looking uncomfortable and staying near the door.

“Hoggle!” Sarah squeaked, hugging him tightly, while he tried to cover his face.

“Don’t kiss me…don’t kiss me!” he squeaked, as she went to kiss his cheek. So engrossed was Sarah in hugging her friend, that she missed the decidedly wicked smirk that curled the corner of Jareth’s lips.

Tugging his glove back on, Jareth fixed the little group with a stern eye, his tone cool and authoritative, “I shall leave you in the company of your _friends_ , Sarah. Your curfew is 10 pm. See that you are back in the house by that time. And I expect you to be in your own rooms by 10:30. Breakfast will be at the customary time and you _will_ be on time.”

Without pausing to think about what she was doing, Sarah launched herself at Jareth. “Thank you!” she grinned, hugging him tight and kissing his cheek. When she realized what she had done, she jumped away as if burned, her face turning pink as she stared at his feet, fidgeting. “I just…um…yeah…”

Chuckling, he nodded. “Go…enjoy your time with your friends, Sarah. I believe you have some catching up to do,” he said, then looked at Hoggle. “Mind what I said, Hedgwart. She is to be in the house by 10pm or I will hold _you_ personally responsible.”

Hoggle gulped and nodded, “Yes, yer majesty. Understood.”

Jareth surveyed the small group once more, then turned and left the heart of the labyrinth. The last they heard of him was the crisp crunching of his shoes upon the fine crushed shells that lined the paths of the garden labyrinth. Watching him go, Sarah was struck by an overwhelming sense of sadness that hit her out of nowhere and a feeling of regret.

“Why on Earth would I feel that way,” she pondered briefly, before the joy of being with her friends overtook her once more.

 

* * *

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:**

I do apologize for the lengthy delay in posting this. I struggled with this chapter for ages as my muse left me. This is the third version of it and I’m going with it. The last few months have been frightfully busy at work, which doesn’t help me keep my muse. Then last week I went for a heart cath to check something on my lungs, and while they were checking things out, they found that I have a mutant fourth major heart artery, and it was mostly blocked. So I am now the owner of a shiny new heart stent…and all kinds of restrictions and stuff.

Anyway…here is the next chapter. I will try not to be so long about getting the following chapter to you.

Lots of love….Kit


	10. School Dazed and Confused

**50 Shades of Fey**

**Ch. 10: School Dazed and Confused**

Biting her lip, Sarah stood in front of the triple mirror in her dressing room, looking at her reflection. On the one hand, the deep green of her tie and the stripes in the plaid skirt picked up the green of her eyes, and seemed to give her hair faint hints of a burgundy color, however that was really the only positive thing about the uniform. Make no mistake, the materials were lovely; the shirt was made of Egyptian cotton so fine it felt almost like silk and the skirt was made of real Irish wool, with the pattern of the tartan lined up perfectly among the skirt pleats. First class all the way – but that didn’t change matters any.

‘Cadwalader Academy may be _the_ school for future leaders of monied families, but their uniform still looks like something straight out of manga,’ she thought ruefully, as she slipped her feet into the sensible, sturdy and decidedly ugly, black mary-janes that went with the uniform.

Sarah frowned as she tugged the skirt down a bit. She wasn’t a prude and had worn her fair share of short skirts, she just never expected to wear one as part of a school uniform. It just felt wrong – somehow.  Sighing she picked up her blazer, still irritated that the school dress code even specified what type of stockings and undergarments were allowed – plain white cotton knickers and bras, black tights or knee socks. Nibbling her lip again, she cringed. ‘God…I hope they don’t actually check our knickers,’ she thought, somewhat horrified by the very idea.

Still wondering how strict the academy would be about uniform details, Sarah slung her backpack over her shoulder and headed down to breakfast, her stomach clenching in knots. New schools were never fun, that much she knew. Sure, she had spent much of her life in the same small town, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t keenly aware of the sort of misery that awaited ‘the new kid’.  As a general rule, Sarah went out of her way to be nice to any new kids who joined her high school back home, but this time she was the new kid, and she wasn’t particularly happy about it.

“Can’t I be home-schooled this year, like Toby?” she had asked Jareth at dinner the night before.

Jareth merely shook his head, his blue eyes quiet but unyielding. “No. Your father wanted you to attend a first rate university and I will keep my promise to him. You will go to Cadwalader Academy and you will excel in your studies and activities. That is not up for discussion,” he replied, making it quite clear that there was no room for argument.

Taking a deep breath outside the breakfast room door, Sarah steeled herself for spending the next hour with Jareth. He had informed her the night before that he would be taking her to the academy this morning and expected her to eat breakfast with him as per usual. While she had come to terms with eating breakfast and dinner with him every day he was in residence, spending time with Jareth was still stressful – even when she wasn’t purposefully pushing him and he wasn’t baiting her.

Breathing out, she pushed the door open and stepped into the breakfast room, stopping in surprise to see that the room was empty. The table was set for two as usual, with purple irises in a shimmering pink vase in the middle of the small breakfast table. Sitting on her place setting was a blue box with a white bow on it. Crossing the room, Sarah draped her blazer on the back of a chair against the wall and sat her book bag on it, still eying the box sitting at her place with interest. With a shrug she pulled out her chair, then sat, picking up the folded paper propped against the box.

_Sarah –_

_I am sorry I am not here to take you to the academy for your first day, but unfortunately it can’t be helped, as I have been called home to deal with some family business. I expect you to be on your best behavior for Mrs. Brown this week, since I will likely not return before the weekend. Louis will take you to school each day and pick you up at 4:30 when field hockey practice finishes. Please be in my study at 9pm sharp each night I am gone – I will contact you then to account for your day._

_The box is both a gift for your first day of school and a reward for following the rules for the last few days._

_Remember – you conquered a Labyrinth and beat a Fey King, the first day at a new school should be a piece of cake._

_~G.R._

Sarah smiled, oddly touched at his reminder. She didn’t know how he knew that she needed to hear something like that this morning, but she was glad of it. Sitting the note aside she lifted the lid of the box. Inside was a stuffed purple dragon curled up around a small pink box. Grinning, she reached into the box only to gasp, her eyes widening in surprise. As her hand grazed the stuffed dragon, it shimmered, changing from a stuffed toy into a miniature dragon with sparkling purple and blue scales. It raised its head and smiled sleepily at her, blowing tiny blue smoke rings from its nostrils. Flexing its blue wings, the small dragon nuzzled against her hand. Still trying to wrap her head around the fact that there was a small dragon in the box, Sarah picked up a small card next to the dragon, seeing Jareth’s careful handwriting on it.

_The dragon’s name is Crystal. She only appears as a dragon by those who are Fey. Feed her fruit and flowers and she will happily guard your jewelry box when you are not home._

Grinning Sarah stroked the head and neck of the tiny dragon, while reaching into the box with her other hand and opening the pink box. Inside the smaller box was a lovely golden bracelet of interlocking rings. Sarah lightly ran her finger over the bracelet, while Crystal seemed to growl happily and settle herself on top of the bracelet, as if she were a duck trying to hatch an egg.

‘Maybe today wouldn’t be so bad after all,’ she thought, petting Crystal.

 

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Cadwalader Academy was like something out of a BBC drama – a stuffy BBC drama, Sarah mused as she sat in a stiff, high backed wooden chair outside the headmistresses office. Despite her protests that it was too ostentatious, Louis had bundled her into the back of the sleek grey Bentley and driven her to school. The drive leading up to the Academy had to be as long as the driveway to Tylluan House. There were immaculate gardens and sports fields, as well as a huge main building that looked like a larger version of Tylluan House. As the driveway curved toward the visitor parking area, Sarah saw a series of out-buildings behind the school, with only a few uniformed students walking around, as classes weren’t scheduled to start for another hour.

Louis gave her an apologetic smile as he escorted her to the office. “Perhaps it won’t be so bad, Sarah,” he said in his low rumbling voice – the most he had said to Sarah since she arrived.

She gave him a wan smile, unable to voice her own doubts on the matter, since the door of the Headmistress’ office opened to reveal a stern looking woman in a grey tweed suit. Louis handed her an envelope from Mr. Rex, then gave Sarah an encouraging smile before leaving.

“Well, don’t just stand there girl. Come in,” the Headmistress said, her tone as crisp as her dress.

Sarah’s meeting with the Headmistress, Miss Bethnell went like it would in any English boarding school drama put out by the BBC; so in that way, Sarah wasn’t exactly surprised. She and Louis had been shown in by the sour looking secretary only to meet the dour and prim, Miss Bethel – emphasis on the _Miss_ , as Sarah quickly learned (and could easily guess why). The woman was positively glacial in her manner and tone. It was bad enough that she spent nearly an hour lecturing Sarah on the history of the school and the prestigious alumni, but she kept reminding Sarah that as the ward of someone like Mr. Rex she was to be held to the highest standard. The first time Miss Bethell mentioned how _generous_ Mr. Rex was in taking Sarah and her brother in, Sarah nearly laughed out loud.

 _‘Generous…what have you done that is generous,’_ she thought then heard the long ago answer of Jareth’s, _‘Everything! Everything you have asked, I have done. You asked that the child be taken. I took him. You cowered before me. I was frightening. I have turned the world upside down and I’ve done it all for you. I’m exhausted from living up to your expectations of me. Isn’t that generous?’_

By the fifth time the woman made that argument, Sarah was past irritated and heading rapidly toward nuclear level rage. Finally the odious woman handed her a printed schedule of classes and gestured toward her office door, “You may wait in the chair outside until your guide for the day arrives. She will get you your books, show you where your locker assignment is and take you to classes -- for today only. I suggest you learn your way around the halls and out-buildings quickly, as we abhor tardiness at Cadwalader Academy.”

Cadwalader might be the place to educate rich kids, but the Headmistress had as much tact as…well…as Hoggle, Sarah mused, looking around the outer office area, before settling into a leather chair. After several minutes a girl about her height came in, wearing the Cadwalader uniform, but somehow managing to wear it in a way that made her seem completely alien in the stuffy atmosphere. She had perfect ringlet curly hair, worn in two long pigtails, one hanging over each shoulder. Squinting a bit, Sarah was shocked to find that the dark hair of the girl actually had what appeared to be dark purple streaks throughout it. Her eyes were lined with dark purple eyeliner that matched the sparkly purple-black nail polish on her fingers. Around her neck she wore several necklaces, with several bracelets and rings on each hand.

The girl stopped at the secretary’s desk and smiled, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Morning Mrs. Donovan, Miss Bethell sent for me?”

Mrs. Donovan sniffed dolefully and jerked her head in Sarah’s direction. “She is over there. See that she gets her books and locker assignment, then escort her to classes – today _only_.”

The girl with the purple hair merely nodded at the grouchy secretary. “Yes, Ma’am.” Looking up she grinned at Sarah and came over. “Hi…you must be Sarah Williams. I’m Angelina Omicioli,” she chirped, then pointed at the paper in Sarah’s hand. “That’s your schedule right?”

Smiling Sarah stood up, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. “Hi...um…yeah, this is my schedule,” she said, handing it to Angelina.

The other girl skimmed the print out and smiled, “Cool, we have most classes together. S’probably why they paired me up with you.”

While Angelina checked Sarah’s schedule, another girl walked into the outer office. Sarah fought the urge to roll her eyes at the way the other girl swanned into the room as if she owned it, her perfect blonde hair cascading in a graceful waterfall over her shoulders. The blonde girl was in the academy uniform, but hers seemed positively dull next Angelina’s. Glancing around, the girl ignored Mrs. Donovan and walked toward where Angelina and Sarah were standing, giving the two of them a look of distain as she gave Sarah a quick once-over.

“What are you hanging around for, Omicioli? Take your new puppy and go away,” the girl said, waving her hand as if dismissing the two of them.

Sarah fought the urge to growl, while Angelina just laughed. “I could ask you the same question, Marcy.”

Marcy fluffed her hair, then gave a smile that was oddly reminiscent of a shark. “ _I_ am here to act as guide for the new student,” she says, flashing a victorious smirk at Angelina. “Oh, that’s right…given the circles _you_ run in I doubt you heard the news.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, Angelina gave Marcy an amused grin. “Do tell. What news has the Queen Bee and her hive buzzing?”

Marcy glared at the other girl, “Well, the heir to the Rex fortune is starting here today. So _I_ have been asked to be his guide for the week.”

At this Sarah bit her lip to suppress a grin, as she pretended to listen with interest.

“Oh really?” Angelina asked, shooting Sarah a questioning look.

“Yes,” Marcy continued. “I’m here to show him around and make sure he becomes acquainted with the _right_ people here. Just imagine the famous people he must know considering who his father is.”

“Well, he isn’t our father. And if you’re expecting a boy, then you’ll have to wait another five years before Mr. Rex will send Toby here,” Sarah said with a laugh.

Sarah’s words stopped Marcy cold, the other girl snapping her mouth shut with an audible ‘snick’, as her expression shifted from incredulous to a sort of smarmy ‘friendliness’ that made Sarah feel rather like the last steak at a carnivore buffet.

“Where are my manners, I’m Marcy Kent. My father is James Kent, I’m sure you’ve heard of him, he’s the Labor Leader for Parliament,” she said, holding out her hand to Sarah.

Not really wanting to, Sarah took the proffered hand and shook it. “I’m Sarah Williams of the New York Williams,” she replied, making Angelina snort a bit, before she covered her mouth with her hand. “And no, I haven’t a clue who James Kent is, I’m an American. We haven’t cared for UK politics since we sent the English packing following the Revolutionary War.”

Clearly missing the joke, Marcy frowned slightly, “New York Williams? I’m afraid I’m not familiar with that family, what do they own?”

Giving up, Sarah chuckled shaking her head, “At the moment, not much. We sold the house just before Mr. Rex’s solicitor showed up with the paperwork.”

Marcy wrinkled her nose, the look of distain back again. “So you aren’t _really_ his heir,” she sniffed, then looked at Angelina. “Celeste heard Miss Bethell on the phone with Mr. Rex last week and heard her say that the new student was heir to the Rexic Industries fortune.”

Angelina merely smiled at Sarah, while Sarah shrugged, “If Mr. Rex wishes to name me as the heir to his fortune, I won’t complain. However, he doesn’t inform me of his business dealings. He is our guardian now.”

“Oh? Are you family?” Marcy asked, her attitude thawing somewhat. “Niece perhaps?”

Growing tired of Marcy and her social climbing motives, Sarah frowned. “No. My father was Mr. Rex’s attorney for some US business. Mr. Rex was made our guardian in their will. We are his wards, which may not mean much to _you_ but _he_ considers us family,” she stated, her tone sharp.

“So it’s like that? You’re basically a charity case,” Marcy sniffed. Sarah clenched her fist, fighting the urge to punch the detestable girl in the nose and ruin that ‘perfect’ face. Marcy gave a long-suffering sigh then shrugged, “Well, I suppose I should show you around anyway . It wouldn’t do for someone affiliated with Mr. Rex to fall in with the wrong crowd.”

Sarah straightened up a bit and pinned Marcy with a cool stare, her words frosty, “No, thanks. I already have a guide. Besides, Gareth expects me to uphold the family honor and expectations of civility. Based on that, I suspect that anyone that _you_ deem worthy of me knowing, wouldn’t qualify under his expectations.”

Marcy blinked in surprise, then huffed and walked off, leaving Angelina staring at Sarah with a look of admiration. “Oh yes, I think we are going to get along famously!” she grinned, linking her elbow into Sarah’s and leading her from the school office.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

The morning passed in a whirl of activity that saw Sarah and Angelina heading from one side of campus to the other and back again multiple times. Angelina helped Sarah get her books from the bookstore, then showed her to her locker. Looking around at the rows of lockers set in a stodgy stone hallway on the third floor, Sarah was a bit relieved to find that Angelina’s was nearby. The two of them stowed Sarah’s books for their afternoon classes, then headed toward their first class – chemistry. As it turned out, Chemistry was a strong point for Angelina and rough subject for Sarah. Luckily for her, the professor assigned her to the empty seat next to Angelina.

From Chemistry they headed to English Literature, then Psychology, before the bell rang for the lunch period. Sarah was amazed that unlike American schools, Cadwalader gave students an hour and a half for lunch, despite the fact that everyone was required to remain on campus. Before they reached the dining hall, Angelina was called back to Miss Bethell’s office. “Hey, look…I’ll catch up with you in the dining hall,” she said, waving as she heading back toward the stairs.

Sighing Sarah stepped into the sea of uniformed students walking toward the dining hall, following along. She was settled with her salad and fruit at the end of a table near the windows, when Angelina came up with her tray, dropping into the chair across from her.  “Salad? Ugh…don’t let the Ms. Franz , the dance coach see you eating that or she’ try to get you to guilt trip me into eating them more,” Angelina quipped, picking up a slice of pizza and biting into it with a happy groan.

“Why would she care, Angelina?” Sarah asked, laughing as she waved a forkful of lettuce in the other girl’s direction.

Angelina batted the fork away and grinned. “First off Williams, the name is Angel. No one calls me Angelina and no one but my parents calls me by my full name.”

“So what’s your full name?” asked Sarah curiously, munching on the lettuce and dressing, as more students filed into the dining hall.

“Angelina Brigid Victoria Patrice Omicioli,” she says, then rolls her eyes. “Bloody Irish-Italian naming. Sheesh.”

Sarah giggled, then wagged a fork with a carrot stuck on the end at Angel. “So, Miss Angelina Brigid Victoria Whatever Omicioli… why would the dance coach want you to eat a vegetable or three?”

“Because she’s worried I won’t fit in my solo dress before the next feis,” Angel sighed, twisting one of her pigtails around her finger.  Seeing Sarah’s confused look, Angel wrinkled up her nose. “For my sport my grandparents signed me up for Irish Dance, since they are paying my tuition here. The solo dress is…as one would guess, for my solo performance. It’s actually prettier than my group competition dress, but both of them are ridiculously expensive, so it’s impossible to let one out. And a feis is a dance competition. Please don’t ask me any more about it,” she groaned, taking another big bite of her pizza. “I hate it, but it is too late to take up another sport since I’ll graduate in the spring. When I’ve done my last feis, you should come over and we’ll roast marshmallows over a bonfire of my ugly competition dresses,” she added with wistful grin.

Sarah grimaced with a nod, “Yeah, I understand, that is part of why I fell into field hockey. It was either that or golf and golf is just so…boring.”

“Well, dance certainly isn’t boring – so long as you don’t mind spending all of your free time dancing, whether you are injured or not. Check this out,” Angel grinned, pulling her thigh high socks down to her ankles and showing the deep purple and black bruising across the top of her foot and up the inside of her ankle. “Bryce from our English class screwed up a count at the Saturday practice, and tripped me up. I’ve still danced four hours a day since then.”

Wincing in sympathy, Sarah shook her head. “That’s barbaric.”

“That’s Irish Dance,” Angel shrugged, finishing off her pizza, then digging into the cake on her tray.

Glancing around, Sarah frowned, slinking down into her chair as she picked at her salad, “People keep looking at me.”

Angel looks around, “Yeah. I’m guessing Marcy has been making sure everyone knows that you are the new student and that you aren’t really Mr. Rex’s kid.”

“Great, so everyone will know I haven’t got parents,” Sarah muttered, pushing her salad away.

“Sure you do, you have Mr. Rex now and in the money oriented pecking order around here, that means that technically you are at the top of the heap,” Angel said, then propped her chin on her hand and waggled her eyebrows at Sarah. “Now then…dish the dirt on the UK’s most eligible millionaire.”

Laughing, Sarah shook her head, wondering what Angel would think if she told the truth about ‘Mr. Rex’.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

At 9 pm sharp, Sarah walked into Jareth’s study, feeling uneasy at being in the room without him. Unsure whether he would ‘poof’ in or call, she shut the door and locked it behind her, then sat at his desk. The large mahogany desk was neat, without a single bit of paper or clutter marring the surface of the black leather blotter in the middle of the wood surface.  There were no decorative elements, except for the large, grapefruit-sized crystal supported by three golden goblins. She watched as the grandfather clock by the door began to chime the hour, half expecting Jareth to materialize in the room before the ninth chime sounded.  When the last chime rang, without any sign of Jareth, Sarah sighed and began to spin around and around in the big leather desk chair muttering to herself.

“Okay O’ great and almighty Goblin King, Master of my life and dictator of silly rules… I’m here,” she grumbled, spinning faster.  “Just like a good little slave,” she added with a wry smile.

In her spinning she didn’t notice the purple that smoke filled the crystal, swirling around before fading away to reveal Jareth sprawled across his throne in tight brown leather breeches, his black boots, and a flowing white silk shirt, open across his chest. His lips curled in a sultry smirk as he listened to her, lightly tapping the end of his crop against his leather clad calf.

“While I am rather fond of that term of endearment coming from you, Precious… you are most definitely not my slave and being ‘good’ where you are concerned, seems depends on the day,” he purred,  giving a rumbling laugh at the way Sarah suddenly stopped spinning, her jade eyes wide in surprise as she stared at the crystal.

“Jareth,” she whispered, her cheeks flushing hotly, both at his words, but also the way he was brandishing the crop. The Goblin King held it up and with gloved fingers seemed to examine the ‘business’ end of it, before arching an eyebrow and peering at her through the crystal again.

“Oh, now, there is no reason to change the manner of honorific, Sarah dear,” he chuckled, his pale eyes twinkling mischievously.

With her cheeks feeling like they were on fire, Sarah glanced down and ran her hand through her hair. “Um… you should have warned me rather than sneaking up on me like that,” she stammered, as Jareth laughed, the sound rich and musical, even though he wasn’t in the same room with her.

“You had ample ‘warning’, Precious. I told you I would contact you at 9 pm tonight to account for your day,” he replied, flicking the crop lightly against his calf. “It is hardly my fault that you weren’t paying attention and let your mouth run away with you.”

Sarah frowned, while Jareth smiled, able to feel her discomfort and embarrassment. As he tapped the crop against his leg again, he noticed the way her eyes seemed to follow the movement, making note to file that little tidbit away for future examination.

“Now then, tell me about your first day of classes,” he asked, settling back into the throne more comfortably.

Sarah groaned inwardly as he began to tap the crop against his leg again – this was going to be a long evening.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

The rest of the week passed quickly for Sarah, her head spinning with new classes, new classmates, new teachers and new expectations. Overall, her classes were fine, as Angel was in most of them, often sitting next to Sarah, which made things more bearable having a friendly face. It was the unfriendly faces she had the most problem with, chief of those being Marcy Kent. By Tuesday afternoon, Marcy had made sure that it was widely known through the student body that Sarah was not actually Mr. Rex’s heir, but she was just a charity case – the child of ‘the help’ according to Marcy. When Sarah first heard that, she wanted to throttle Marcy, and for a split second considered wishing her away to the goblins then refusing to run for her freedom. It was only the thought of having to answer for that to Jareth that stopped her.

Tuesday evening when he asked how her day was, she tried to sound upbeat, but it was if he could see through the lie. Frowning, he sat up in the throne, his blue eyes narrowing as he looked through the crystal. “You are hiding something from me, Sarah,” he said, without a hint of the teasing he usually used when speaking to her, his tone clearly serious.

“It’s nothing, Jareth,” Sarah sighed, wrinkling up her nose. “Just some witch of a girl at school, who has taken it upon herself to tell everyone that I’m not really the heir to the Rex fortune since I’m just some charity case.”

When Jareth’s expression turned stormy, Sarah felt a shiver go through her. She was torn between being thankful that she resisted the urge to wish Marcy away, and the perverse desire to see Jareth put Marcy in her place.

“I see,” he growled quietly, his blue eyes still flashing darkly. “Well, this _girl_ clearly doesn’t know what she is talking about, Sarah. You are by no means a charity case, as you’re the trust fund your father set up for you and Toby is more than sufficient to meet your needs. While your father may have technically been my employee, we were also friends,” he added, his tone settling down as his expression gentled. “And as to you being the heir, I did tell Miss Bethell that. Since I have not child and wanted to impress upon them the seriousness of educating you suitably, I thought it best to name you as the heir – unless you do not wish to be.”

Sarah could hardly believe his words. “Me? Your heir? Are you serious?”

Jareth smiled at that, sitting back into his throne again, his corn silk blonde hair fluttering as he nodded. “Indeed I am, Sarah. In the Underground you have legitimacy by being the Champion of the Labyrinth, Aboveground your legitimacy is now tied to my fortune. You and Toby will share it and someday take over for me here.”

Frowning, Sarah pursed her lips, “What about when you take a wife and have your own kids?”

“They will share the fortune with you and Toby, the assets being divided equally,” he replied, as his mind added – _Unless you take her to wife…but then she would have no need to inherit a fortune in the Above._

He gave a slight shake of his head at that intruding thought, while Sarah still looked stunned. “I….I don’t know what to say.”

“Just say ‘Thank You, O’ great and mighty Goblin King, Master of your destiny and dictator of silly rules’,” he purred, his voice taking on the more familiar teasing tone.

Laughing, Sarah merely shook her head, “Thank you, Jareth.”

“Hmm…I think I like the other honorific better,” he chuckled, winking at her, the move making her giggle and blush profusely. “But that will do for the moment, Precious. That will do.” Smiling at her through the crystal, Jareth could think of a few other things he'd like to hear her call him -- and a few other situations for them, but for the moment, just the fact that she was smiling and calling him by name, was a win in his book.


	11. Ch. 11 Triumphs and Troubles

**50 Shades of Fey**

**Ch. 11 -**

Jareth was bored. High Council meetings were never fun, but this one was worse than usual. So far he had been trapped in the High Council Hall, twelve hours a day for the last two days and not a thing had been decided. It was maddening. All of this time the Council has been debating changes to trade routes and tariffs. While Jareth had a head for figures and actually was one of the best diplomatic strategists on the Council, listening to King Magnus of the Centaurs and Queen Mab of the Nightmare kingdom debate tariffs and trade routes, quibbling over the equivalent of small change, was making the Goblin King miss his goblins. Hell, at this moment he’d even welcome a tantrum from Sarah.

As he sat there, fighting to stay awake, he suddenly felt a strong wave of terror rush through him. Frowning, he shut his eyes for a moment, tuning out the droning argument of Magnus and Mab, as he focused to find out where the feeling was coming from. He allowed his magic to trail inward, separating out the various familial strands until he found the shimmering jade strand from Sarah. In the next instant he felt another jolt of sheer terror and heard his name shrieked as if in his ear, the sound jolting him awake. Without a word to the rest of the council members, he spun a crystal upon his fingers then disappeared as it popped.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Gasping Sarah fumbled with her inhaler, still half asleep as she fought to push the last vestiges of the nightmare from her mind, only to squeak as Jareth appeared at the foot of her bed, flashes of her first meeting with him slicing through her mind and doing nothing to assuage the terror in her heart. Standing before her was not the Jareth who liked to tease her over meals, but his fearsome alter ego – the Goblin King, with pale hair fluttering in the ethereal wind that accompanied him, whipping his leather cloak around his hips and legs. She could hear the faint creaking of the leather armor he wore, with each movement of his body.

With a frown, Jareth swept toward the bed, only to be met with another terrified, breathless squeak, as Sarah shoved herself back toward the headboard and away from him. Glancing down he sighed; in his rush to reach her to see what had terrified, his own power had taken the urgency to mean danger and clothed him accordingly. Waving his hand, Jareth changed from his armor, to a pair of simple breeches, a light linen shirt and a leather waistcoat. “Shh…it’s just me, Sarah. You’re safe,” he murmured, plucking the inhaler from her hand and priming it. He smiled at the fact that she didn’t bother to protest when he held the inhaler up to her lips. “That’s it, let me help, Precious,” he said, his words low and gentle, as he depressed the canister for her. Sucking deep, Sarah held the mist in her lungs before letting it out.

“Thanks…” she panted, then gave him a weak smile. “We’ve got…to stop…meeting…like this.”

Jareth chuckled quietly, turning his hand over and presenting her the small orange inhaler lying on his leather clad palm. Still wheezing slightly, Sarah took the pump and sucked the second dose fully into her lungs, before letting it out with a shaky breath.

“Yes well, that is one of the dangers of this type of familial link, when I feel something happening I am compelled to act,” he said with a quiet smile, relieved to feel the terror fading from her. “Sorry about the armour though. My magic, is prone to overreact when it feels someone I care about is in danger,” he added, with a smirk.

When Sarah’s breathing finally settled down she leaned back against the headboard, “I’m not in danger though,” she muttered, her green eyes narrowing a bit as she finally took a good look at him. He looked tired, but as always, immaculately dressed, and he smelled divine. ‘Bad mind. Bad Sarah,’ she scolded herself, trying to drive away the quick flashes of the fantasy she saw in his mirrored crystal, that suddenly assailed her.

“You were clearly terrified, Sarah” he said, tilting his head very owlishly as he sat upon the foot of the bed. “I had to check on you.”

“Couldn’t you have…I dunno…used one of your crystals?” she asked.

Pausing, Jareth considered this, then gave her a quiet smile and shrugged. “To be honest, that never occurred to me. I felt your terror and in my world, when one is terrified, it could be something life-threatening, therefore it is best not to hesitate.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt whatever you are working on,” Sarah sighed, hanging her head and fidgeting with the hem of her pajama top.

Shrugging, Jareth rested his own back against the pole at the foot of the bed, “You did me a favor actually, Sarah. The High Council meeting was horrifically dull.”

“Oh, is that what you are working on?” Sarah asked, putting her inhaler back on the nightstand, then peeking at him from behind a veil of dark hair.  “I thought you were at the castle?”

Jareth watched her quietly, the moonlight from the window casting pearly shadows across her body. At moments like this, he still saw the scared girl he first met so many years ago, but at the same time, she had grown into a beautiful and strong woman – so much stronger than she knew. As he looked at her, he felt a pang of jealousy, knowing she would be presented to the Underground Court at the Yule Ball, and once that happened, he would have to start fielding courting suits for her hand. Pushing the intrusive thoughts away, he smiled at her again. “Believe me, Precious…I would far rather be home putting up with the chaos of my goblins, than listening to royalty quibble over what amounts to pennies,” he said, shaking his head. “Alas, a king’s work is never done as they say. I am a member of the High King’s family and a ranking member of the Underground High Court, so attendance is required.”

“Shit, Jareth,” Sarah muttered, frowning and hanging her head so far down her chin touched her chest. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt…you should go back. I’m sorry.”

“Hush, Sarah,” he said, reaching over and curling his fingers under her chin. Tilting it upward, he smiled at the hesitancy in her eyes. “You have nothing to apologize for. I may be a king, but family comes first. How many times do I have to tell you that you are family now?”

Seeing confusion in her eyes, he sighed inwardly, hoping that someday she would understand that he wasn’t really the villain she saw him as when first they met. He meant what he said – she was family now and he would always come for family.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

“Again! Again!” barked Coach Finn, waving at the two students in the corner playing piano and fiddle.

Placing their fingers back on their instruments, the music students started the jig again, as the senior level dance students groaned, the sound of music and the rhythmic clacking of hard shoes on the wooden floor filling the dance studio.  Sarah peeked in the window, watching Angel and her cohort, and marveling at the speed their feet moved, yet they stayed in perfect synchronicity. Seeing her, Angel gave a quick wink, but never missed a step. After going through the piece twice more, Coach Finn released them, barking comments.

“Omicioli! Make sure you watch your position at the finish,” she snapped, while Angel grabbed her bag and headed toward the door of the studio, rolling her eyes.

“Yeah, Omicioli…your finish looked like crap,” Sarah grinned, as Angel pushed her way out the door.

“Bite me, Williams,” Angel laughed, linking her arm with Sarah’s and taking the waxed paper bundle Sarah offered her. “What’s this?”

Smirking, Sarah nodded toward the package, “Mrs. Brown made fresh cinnamon buns this morning. I thought you might like one. Just don’t let the coach catch you with it.”

Angel held the small package to her nose and inhaled with a lustful groan. “Gods yes,” she practically moaned. “I don’t usually eat more than a granola bar for breakfast. I never have time. Hey, wanna come back to my room? You can play games while I grab a quick shower.”

“Sure,” Sarah said, the two of them pushing through the outer doors of the arts center, just as Marcy and two other girls burst through the doors, knocking into Sarah.

“Watch it,” Marcy snapped, then sneered as she saw who she had bumped into. “Don’t mind Williams, girls. She’s no one. Just a charity case that Mr. Rex took in.” The three girls gave Sarah condescending looks as they moved by.

Seeing, Sarah’s mood seem to visibly drop, Angel gave her friend a squeeze, “Don’t let them get to you, Sarah. Marcy’s a bitch and someday she’ll get what she deserves.”

“I wish she would,” Sarah muttered, as Angel led her toward the girls dorm. “I really wish she would.”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Sarah dumped her backpack on Angels’ messy bed, the purple and pink Hello Kitty comforter hanging half onto the floor, then flopped into the purple bean bag with a sigh. Picking at her nails, she sighed as Angel ruffled her hair.

“Cheer up, hon,” Angel chirped, grabbing her fluffy Star Trek robe and headed into the adjoining bathroom. “So what made you drop by Coach Finn’s morning torture session today. Are you just sadistic and wanted to see me in pain?” she called out through the bathroom door, the sound of the shower hissing in the background.

Grinning once more, Sarah called back, “Oh yeah… I forgot to ask you after the whole Marcy thing. I talked to Jar…um…Gareth last night.”

“Who?” Angel asked, opening the door a crack and peering out.

“Gareth. You know…Mr. Rex,” Sarah chuckled, rolling her eyes. “My guardian.”

“Oh yeah…tall blonde and hunky,” Angel purred, wiggling her eyebrows and making kissy faces at Sarah.

“Come on! Knock it off. He’s my guardian…not my lover,” Sarah groaned, while her stomach fluttered at the thought of a certain tall, lithe Goblin King, particularly the way he liked to fidget with his crop while lounging in his throne.

 _Stop that! Bad Sarah! Don’t think like that! ­_ \- her inner-self scolded, while her libido gave a lewd shimmy and flashed her an image of Jareth’s tongue teasing along his lower lip. Shaking her head to rid herself of the seductive images, Sarah frowned as Angel winked at her.

“Hey, you aren’t related…so he could be!” Still giggling as Sarah threw a stuffed pink octopus at the bathroom door, Angel shut it, and shouted through it, “So…what did he say that was so important you crashed dance practice to tell me?”

Taking a deep breath to get her butterflies under control again, Sarah called back, “He’ll be away through the weekend and said that if I wanted to, I could have a friend stay over Friday and Saturday. Do you wanna?”

The bathroom door flew open and Angel raced out, her blue robe wrapped around her. “Seriously?! You’re inviting me to spend the weekend at the Rex manor? Of course I’ll come,” she squealed, landing on top of Sarah who grunted and laughed. Sitting up again, Angel gave the other girl a filthy grin, “Oh! We’ll have to make sure Marcy knows – it will _killlllll_ her!”

Sarah nodded, “Definitely! And we don’t have to let on that he won’t be home.”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Other than a few more run-ins with Marcy and her minions, Sarah seemed to be settling into life at Cadwalader Academy as well as could be expected. Granted, Marcy was doing what she could to make Sarah miserable without being overtly ‘nasty’ about it. She had made sure that the entire senior school knew that Sarah was a ‘charity case’, and she did everything she could to show Sarah up in orchestra and field hockey.

During the orchestra class for the week, each day the professor took an instrument section and tested the students, assigning them their chairs. Out of the four violins tested on Tuesday, Angel was by far the best, so she naturally was assigned first chair. At the start of class on Wednesday Professor Quinn called Sarah up, informing her that in his view, the piano was more of a ‘solo’ instrument and academy orchestra was a _team_ effort, therefore she would be assigned to the section of her secondary instrument, flute. Groaning inwardly, Sarah nodded then moved toward the four flautists – with Marcy currently in first chair.

Seeing Sarah joining them, Marcy gave her a snide grin. “Oh dear, poor Williams…you forgot your flute. Guess you can’t test for the chairs and will just have to take fifth seat. Not that it matters to me, I’ve been first chair for three years…this will be the fourth.” All around her the other wind instrumentalists laughed, nudging each other, as Sarah’s face reddened with frustration and embarrassment.

“Nonsense, she can use a school flute and bring her own tomorrow,” Professor Quinn chirped, handing her a beat up blue pasteboard case that had clearly seen better days.

“I don’t have a flute anymore,” Sarah muttered, her fingers lightly rubbing over a deep scratch in the flute case.

Professor Quinn gave her a confused look, “Mr. Rex informed the school that flute was your secondary specialty, surely you have a flute if that is the case?”

With a sigh, Sarah straightened up, drawing strength from the encouraging smile Angel gave her from the string section. “I _did_ have a flute, Sire… but I sold it and the piano to pay the mortgage on the house after my parents died.”

The room fell silent at Sarah’s confession, then the students began to whisper, with a few giggles breaking out – mostly from Marcy and her cronies. For his part, Professor Quinn gave her an understanding smile, the hand stitched leather patches over the elbows of his tweed coat speaking of a man who knew the hardships associated with having little money.

“That’s fine, Sarah. Use the school flute for now. I will send word to Mr. Rex that you need a flute and suggest several fine shops he might consult,” he said, patting her shoulder lightly, then clapping his hands. “Okay flutes, you have ten minutes to warm up before the testing begins. As for the rest of you lot, pay attention and if you can’t do that, at least be quiet with your snoring.”

Triggering the latches on the old case, Sarah grimaced as she uncovered a flute that would have been quite at home in an antique shop rather than a music classroom. She gingerly picked it up, lightly fingering the stops and finding that while the metal was old and somewhat tarnished, the fingering was light and quick, she only wished she had something to give the inside a quick wipe. As she looked it over a tearing sound was heard behind her, before something soft and white was flipped over her shoulder. Looking up in surprise, she grabbed the item and realized it was a bit of a white t-shirt. Confused she turned to see one of the senior boys with his shirt untucked, revealing his white undershirt, with a strip ripped from the hem. The boy gave her a friendly grin, shoving a fall of sandy blonde hair back from his forehead, his brown eyes warm, without a hint of the distain she had become so accustomed to from everyone else in the few days she had been there.

“I usually keep an old undershirt in my trumpet case for that sort of thing, but needs must when a damsel is in distress,” he said, tucking his shirts back in again.

“Um… thanks,” Sarah said, feeling a warm flush in her cheeks as she gave him a shy smile. “I used to use an old t-shirt of my fathers too.”

Nodding, the boy opened his voice to speak when Professor Quinn cut him off, “Three minutes, flutes!”

“My name is Angus, by the way…but you’d better get started warming up,” he whispered, then settled back in his chair, his friends nudging him, followed by whispers and teasing laughter. Angus chuckled, the sound making Sarah blush further as he reached out and slapped one of the other guys up the back of the head. “Oi… be nice, Matt,” Sarah heard him mutter.

Shaking her head, she threaded the bit of soft cotton through the metal wand in the case and quickly ran it through the tubing, before wiping the flute down. Then she picked it up and gave an experimental blow across the end, surprised by the crisp sound that came from the instrument. While the instrument sounded up to the challenge, Sarah wasn’t sure she was. Piano was her favourite instrument and that had been what she had spent the last two years focusing on, only picking up her flute once or twice a year. True, it was a bit like riding a bike, but this bike was a bit rusty.

“Okay, let’s begin. Marcy, since you are first chair, you can go first, then Allison, Jennifer, Georgia and Sarah,” Professor Quinn said, placing sheet music onto a stand at the front of the room. “First round you’ll play the assigned piece, then after that you will be able to play a piece of your choice.”

Marcy gave Sarah a sneer as she got up and glided to the front of the room, flipping her long blonde hair over her shoulder as she gave the boys sitting behind Sarah a smouldering look that made Sarah want to gag. Sarah caught Angel’s eye and giggled as Angel rolled her eyes, clearly of the same mind when it came to Marcy – she chouldn’t have been more obvious if she stripped naked and moaned ‘take me I’m yours’ at the boys.

Taking a breath March launched into the test piece and Sarah had to admit there was a reason the girl was first chair. Her fingers moved easily over the shiny instrument, with the notes coming across sharp and crisp. The piece Professor Quinn was challenging, but nothing that a student at this level shouldn’t be able to manage. Of the first four girls, Marcy was the only one to play the piece with only a minor timing issue that Sarah could identify. She gave a small smile as her turn came around. Sure, she was nervous, but Vivaldi’s Concerto in D major had been a major practice piece of hers for years, so she was familiar enough with the music that she didn’t necessarily even need the sheet music. Not only that, but while Marcy may have thought it was an honor to go first, all it really did was show Sarah where the bar was and what mistakes she needed to avoid in order to outshine Marcy.

When her name was called, Sarah moved to the front of the class, smiling at the ‘thumbs-up’ Angel gave her. She cracked her neck, then set the cool metal to her lower lip, watching Professor Quinn for the count, then she began. Concentrating on the notes in front of her, Sarah tuned out the rest of the class. She was momentarily relieved when her muscle memory kicked in, her fingers dancing lightly over the keys with very little direction. As the last note died, she became aware of murmuring in the class, with Angel beaming proudly at her. Even Angus gave her a broad grin.

“Very nice, Miss Williams,” Professor Quinn. “It takes skill to make such an old flute sound like it is brand new.”

Smiling, Sarah wove her way through the others and back to her seat, taking great pleasure in the angry glare Marcy gave her – clearly unhappy with Sarah’s performance.

“Well…that piece _was_ a piece of cake,” Marcy said snidely to her friends. “I’ve got a great piece for the solo.”

Sarah merely gave Marcy a sweet smile, while imagining the cleaners chasing the girl straight into the Bog of Eternal Stench. With that pleasant thought in her mind, she sat through the solo pieces, trying to decide what to perform for hers. In the second round, Professor Quinn drew names from a hat to establish the order, with Marcy and Sarah chosen as the last two to perform. Marcy did attempt a more complex piece, choosing the Debussy piece ‘Syrinx’. As Marcy played, Sarah frowned. She had considered that piece of music, but didn’t really want to play the same piece as Marcy. Her decision was made however, when Marcy not only forgot several entire measures, but she also stumbled over a group of notes toward the end, seeming to struggle with breathing.

Before the last note had even died she was protesting to Professor Quinn, “Just remember that _is_ a complex piece of music. Even professionals struggle.”

Professor Quinn merely shook his head, “Yes, Miss Kent. I am _quite_ aware of that, however you did choose to play it.” Nodding at Sarah he smiled, “Miss Williams. You are up.”

Smiling Sarah moved back to the front of the room, flinching as Marcy shoulder checked her on her way past. If she hadn’t already chosen her piece, that little stunt would have clenched her decision, but as it was, she had already decided. Taking a deep breath she began the first slow notes of Syrinx. Unlike Marcy, who needed the music in front of her and even then managed to lose entire measures, Sarah merely closed her eyes, her breathing easy and relaxed as she played. With her eyes closed, she was able to lose herself in the notes, feeling them rise and fall, like crystals upon the wind. She felt her body moving easily with the music, her breath, fingers and the flute feeling as if one seamless being. When the last note faded, she opened her eyes to the sound of applause.

“Very impressive, Miss Williams!” Professor Quinn said,  nodding his approval with twinkling eyes. Even Marcy’s crew seemed surprised by Sarah’s performance, while Marcy glared daggers at Sarah, throwing her flute back into its case carelessly.

Returning to her seat, Sarah fixed Marcy with a triumphant smirk, “Now _that_ was a piece of cake.”

Sarah couldn’t wipe the smile off her face after there. As she dismantled the flute and cleaned it, Professor Quinn started speaking. “Very nice performances from the flute section today. I’ve made my decision. Miss Williams will take first chair this year, with Marcy Kent in second. Allison, Jennifer and Georgia will take third, fourth and fifth respectively. Well done, ladies,” he said with a smile, then waved his hands toward the door. “Class dismissed! Wood winds, you are tomorrow!”

Sarah laughed when Angel grabbed her in a hug. “You were magnificient!” Grinning at Marcy, Angel added, “Maybe the two of us can play for Mr. Rex this weekend.”

Understanding what Angel was up to, Sarah grinned and nodded, “Oh yes, he loves music. We play most evenings after dinner.”

The two girls laughed merrily as they left the classroom, each keenly aware of the jealous look from Marcy.

Once they were well away from her, Angel chuckled and shook her head, “If looks could kill, you’d be dead several times over.”

Sarah nodded and frowned, “Yeah, that may have been laying it on a bit thick. I hate to think what she’ll do to make my life miserable now.”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

The rest of the week seemed to fly by. Between classes, homework, orchestra practice, field hockey practice and the nightly ‘chat’ with Jareth, Sarah went to bed exhausted every night, which wasn’t such a bad thing as she was even too tired to dream. By the time 3pm on Friday arrived, she was ready for a weekend to relax and hang out with Angel. Sure, they had homework to do, but they had agreed to do it during study hall on Friday so they wouldn’t have to do anything.

When field hockey practice ended at 4:30, Sarah and the rest of the non-boarding team members headed toward the locker room to change, while the boarding students laughed and chatted on their way to the dorm. Sarah chuckled seeing Angel sprawled on the wooden bench by her locker, holding a GameBoy over her head and muttering, “Die bastard!”

“Such language from a young lady, Omicioli,” Sarah laughed, imitating Miss Bethell.

Sitting up, Angel grinned at her. “Young yes…lady…not so much,” she laughed. “Hey, I was thinking. Let’s catch the shuttle into town and have pizza before we head to your place. I’m dying for decent slice and the place in town is run by a real Italian.”

Sarah stripped her sweaty uniform off and stuffed it into her bag, then grabbed her towel from the locker. “I don’t know, Angel. Gareth told me he didn’t want me hanging out in town when he wasn’t home. Louis is supposed to pick me up and take me straight home from campus every day.”

Angel frowned and rolled her eyes, “Aw, come on! You’re 17. Hell…I’m only 15 and I’ve got more freedom than you do,” she protested, then grinned. “Of course, I’m not the heir to the Rex fortune so…” she shrugged. Seeing Sarah’s frown, she tucked a leg up under her on the bench. “Look, tell Louis you’re going to stay and have dinner on campus with me. He can pick us up here at 8, we’ll be back from town by then. Mr. Rex won’t be any the wiser.”

“Well…” Sarah muttered, contemplating Angel’s plan. It sounded good, and Jareth hadn’t said she was forbidden from staying later on campus.

“Come on…you know you want to,” Angel giggled. “Besides, he’s not home, so he won’t know. And even if he _did_ somehow find out, what’s he going to do? Ground you? Hah! You’re practically a nun anyway – tho it looks like Angus wants to help you put a stop to that.”

Sarah blushed and swatted Angel’s shoulder, heading toward the now empty showers, while Angel followed her, flopping onto a chair outside the tiled shower area, her back to Sarah. “Now, if Rexy were going to spank you for being a bad girl…thats an entirely different matter,” she said, missing Sarah’s spluttered squeak, as it was hidden by the sound of the shower starting up. “If it were me, and he did _that_ …oh honey, I’d be getting in as much trouble as I could!”

“Angel!” Sarah gasped, feeling her cheeks burn hotly as butterflies danced in her stomach at the thought. “You’re terrible! Sheesh…where’d you get ideas like that anyway?”

Angel’s laugh echoed in the shower area as she started her game back up. “Aw come on. Haven’t you read any trashy romance novels? I used to swipe them from my grandma all the time. Most of them are goofy as Hell, but sometimes they can be kinda kinky.”

Sarah stepped under the hot water, shaking her head. “I’m older, I thought I was supposed to be a bad influence on _you_ , not the other way around.”

“S’not my fault you are so corruptible, Williams,” Angel countered, twirling a long pigtail around her finger. “You mean to tell me you’ve never fantasized about sex? With Rexy or someone else, I’m not picky.”

Her cheeks flushed hotter as Sarah quickly washed the sweat and grime away. “Of course I do,” she replied, seeing flashes of her favourite fantasy, involving a certain blonde king, his leather jacket and a crystal topped crop. Sarah shivered despite the hot water pouring over her.

“So are all your fantasies G-rated?” Angel asked, accompanied by the sound of digitally simulated laser fire from her game. “It’s okay, kink isn’t for everyone.”

“Angel! I am not discussing my fantasies with you,” Sarah protested.

“Don’t be such a prude, Sarah. Next thing you’re going to tell me you don’t get yourself off,” the other girl laughed, then cursed at her game. “I’ve been doing that since I was 11. Good stress relief. Ohh!” she beamed, peeking around the edge of the archway leading into the shower room. “We should _totally_ go into Midsummer Morrow sometime, and check out the sex toy shop there. I’ve got a fake ID that says I’m 16, so we can both get into the shop.”

Shaking her head, Sarah turned off the shower and wrapped the towel around herself, flicking water at Angel. “I thought the sex talk and confessions didn’t start until at _least_ 11 during a slumber party,” she laughed, padding back to her locker and drying off.

Angel just shrugged and grinned, “Sex is good, or so I’ve heard. Orgasms are better – and easier for a single girl to come by. Why resist something that feels good.” Following Sarah back toward the lockers, Angel plopped down on the bench again and waggled her eyebrows at Sarah. “So come on…what’s your favourite method to get off?” she asked, giggling at Sarah’s expression. “Fingers? Pillows? Ohh… or do you do unmentionable things to a stuffed animal?”

“Angel!” came the embarrassed squeak from Sarah, the sound of girlish laughter echoing out of the locker room and into the hall.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

At 8:25 the sleek grey car pulled up in front of Tylluan house. Angel practically squee’d when Louis opened the door for her, taking the brightly colored backpack and overnight bag from her.

“Oh my God! This place is _huuuuge_ ,” she gasped, following Sarah out of the car.

“Yeah, home sweet home,” Sarah giggled, linking her arm with Angel’s. “Come on, I’ll give you the grand tour. I figured tonight we can crash in my room, and maybe tomorrow night have an all-night movie marathon in the media room.”

“Media room?” Angel asked, then shook her head with a grin. “Of course…for a second there I forgot who owned this house – just the biggest media mogul in the world.”

“Yeah, and he has the media room to prove it. When you see it, you’ll wonder if he’s compensating for something,” Sarah quipped while Angel snorted with laughter.

“From the size of this place, you gotta wonder!” she giggled.

Still laughing, the two girls trooped up the marble steps to the front doors, as the doors were pulled open by Mrs. Brown, still wiping her hands on her apron, then tucking a wisp of grey hair behind her ear. “Good evening, girls,” she said, smiling warmly at them and ushering them into the foyer, with Louis trailing behind them with their bags. “I’ve got fresh cookies in the oven for later and had the day bed made up in your room, Sarah. Toby is already tucked in for the night, but I promised him you’d play with him tomorrow – sorry, it’s Ms. Glen’s night off and the little terror didn’t want to go to bed with you not being home yet.”

Sarah gave Mrs. Brown a hug, “That’s okay. I figured we’d play hide and seek through the maze with him tomorrow.”

“You’re a good girl, Sarah,” the older woman said, patting Sarah’s cheek. “Now, I’m off to my room with Diddums. If you need anything, feel free to raid the kitchen or get me if you want.”

“No…no…we’ll be fine on our own. You go on and have a nice night,” Sarah insisted. “I’m going to show Angel around then I’ll lock up. And I know Louis will double-check the house before he turns in.”

Nodding, Mrs. Brown shut the door and made her way toward the servant’s suites in the back of the house.

“She’s really nice,” Angel commented, standing in the middle of the large foyer and looking around, clearly in awe of her surroundings.

“Yup, she is pretty chill about having two kids dumped on her. And she is a fantastic cook,” Sarah said, grabbing Angel’s arm and dragging her toward the large staircase at the back of the entrance hall. “Come on, let’s get the tour over so we can settle in.”

Sarah led her friend around the house, making sure to hit the highlights. Angel loved the music room and even did a bit of a jig on the wood floor of the ballroom. And it was all Sarah could do to drag Angel out of the media room once she saw the game consoles, computers and video set up. Sarah hadn’t planned to show her Jareth’s study, but as they reached the ‘family’ hall where Jareth’s rooms were, Angel insisted upon going down so she could look at the family portraits. While Jareth’s bedroom suite was always shut and locked, the study door was wide open, so Sarah showed Angel in.

“This is where his Nibs works from home, I guess,” Sarah said, flinging her arm out with a flourish. “At least, I suppose he works in here. Although I’ve never actually seen him do any ‘work’ in here.”

“Wow! Check this place out,” Angel gasped, slowly moving around the room looking like she was afraid to touch anything. “I’d have never pegged him for having a thing for unicorns,” she mused, looking at golden grate in front of the fireplace, with the twin unicorns supporting the sun it.

Sarah chuckled, imagining Jareth’s expression if he had heard that. “I think the unicorns and sun are part of his coat of arms, they are on the family crest in the middle of the ballroom floor too, remember?”

Angel nodded, lightly running a finger along the front of the heavy desk before stopping at the crystal, sitting heavily on its stand. Reaching over she trailed her finger gently over the curved top of the crystal. “This is gorgeous. What is it?”

“It’s a crystal, nothing more,” Sarah said without thinking.

 _But if you turn it this way, it will show you your dreams_  -- she heard in her head, as clearly as if Jareth had been whispering the words in her ear.

Shivering to chase away the feeling of phantom breath against her neck, Sarah tucked her arm into Angel’s and led her from the study. “Come on, enough with stuffy old relics, let’s get changed and have some fun.”

The two girls chattered happily as they made their way back toward the front of the house, reaching the main foyer in time to hear a booming knock on the door. From the servant’s hall behind the main staircase, they heard Louis’s lumbering step as he went to answer the door.

“S’okay, Louis,” Sarah called out. “Angel and I are right here, we’ll answer it!”

Sarah reached over and wrenched the heavy door open, smiling at the man standing in the entry. His dark eyes looked her up and down, as the evening wind tugged at the ebony hair, slicked back firmly upon his head. He wore a light wool coat of deep black, over what appeared to be a dark grey suit, with a cashmere scarf wrapped around his throat.  The coldness in his eyes as they narrowed at her, sent a shiver up Sarah’s spine and she could feel Angel pull back, shifting almost behind Sarah.

“I’ve come to see Gareth,” he announced, the quiet tenor of his voice undercut by an iciness that was quite intimidating.

Swallowing thickly, Sarah tried to chase away the sudden burst of unease that crept through her. She straightened up a bit, reminding herself she was the Champion of the Labyrinth and if the Goblin King didn’t defeat her, this pompous ass wouldn’t.

“He is unavailable at the moment,” she informed him, pleased that her voice didn’t betray her discomfort.

The man gave an irritated huff and flicked invisible lint from his sleeve, “Just be a good girl and go get him for me. I don’t have time to waste with the likes of _you_.”

Tensing angrily, she crossed her arms over her chest and glared back at him, “I _said_ he is unavailable. And for that matter he doesn’t take unannounced visitors at home at this hour of the night. If you give me your name I’ll inform him that you _dropped_ by. In future you would do better to ring his secretary and make an appointment, if you wish to see him.”

Her demeanor made the man chuckle, the sound low and dark, making Sarah’s blood run cold. There was something very ‘off’ about this man.

“Well, well…and who might you be to speak so personally of him, little bird?” he purred, as his deep brown eyes seemed to shimmer within.

Sarah heard Angel give a soft moan behind her. Blinking rapidly, Sarah decided that she must be more tired than she thought, because for one moment she was seeing double, the man on the stoop, superimposed over another man, with long feathery black hair like Jareth’s, dressed in tight trousers, and flowing black shirt, a plaited black whip coiling through his hands like a leather snake. Shaking her head, she took a deep breath, chasing the image from her mind.

“I don’t think that who _I_ am is any business of _yours_ ,” she retorted, fighting to sound confident and in control, when inside all she really wanted to do was call for Jareth and hide behind him. Something about this man terrified her, yet at the same time she felt drawn toward him, flashes of black sheets and naked bodies dancing into her brain again, even as she shook her head to clear it.

The man purred softly at her look, almost as if he knew what was going on in her head. “So you’re the flavor of the week?” he chuckled, his lips curled with malicious amusement. “Silly girl, he’ll tire of you soon enough -- once he’s corrupted you so that you’ll be useless to him – no matter how many little friends you bring to his bed,” he added, peering around Sarah at Angel, who was now clearly trying to hide behind the older girl. When his eyes flicked back to Sarah’s face, she shuddered finding herself both repulsed and aroused by the way he ran his tongue over his lower lip, regarding her with clearly lascivious intent. “When he’s bored with you, do let me know. I’d be more than happy to let you warm my bed awhile – you can even bring your friend. If you like Gareth’s games, you’ll love mine.”

Gulping as she tried to think of what to say to him, she felt a warm reassuring weight on her shoulder.

“That is _quite_ enough, Rayvn,” Jareth growled, his words quiet and cold.

The man’s eyes narrowed further as he glared at Sarah openly, “So the girl lied, tsk tsk, little bird. You said he wasn’t home.”

Jareth’s hand tightened slightly on Sarah’s shoulder, guiding her back behind him. As she let him move her, she reached out, grasping Angel’s hand tightly. With Jareth blocking her view of Rayvn, Sarah felt the pull toward him ease, replaced with the earlier feeling of unease.

“Not that it is any concern of yours, but she did not lie. As far as knew I was still in London,” Jareth hissed, putting himself between Rayvn and the girls. “And I don’t appreciate the way you have spoken to my ward and her friend. It is beyond the pale, Rayvn. Were you anyone else I’d have you thrown off the property – bodily.  As it is, I want you gone.”

Rayvn’s expression changed, from the haughty smirk to one of apology. Sarah shivered, finding herself pressing closer to Jareths’ back as she tried to avoid Rayvn’s gaze.

“My apologies, Gareth,” the dark man simpered, his expression appearing contrite, except for the hostility in his eyes. “Do bring the girl forward and allow me to apologize properly for having caused offense.”

Unseen by Sarah and Angel, Jareth’s eyes flickered, turning from crystal blue to velvety blackness, his voice deepening and taking on an ethereal resonance, “ _You_ are not to speak to either girl again, or ever darken the steps to my home. Go. Now,” he ordered in a tone that spoke of one who had reached the end of his patience and would sooner react violently than speak further.

Rayvn gave a short bow, fury burning in his eyes as he looked from the hiding girls to the man shielding them. “As you wish, Gareth. Our business can wait…for tonight.”

Before he could even turn around to walk down the marble steps, Jareth had shut the heavy door, a loud thudding sound echoing through the foyer. Feeling Sarah pressed against his back, he turned slowly, gently wrapping his arm around her as she twined her arms around his middle, her heart hammering against his chest.

“That man…was…was….horrible,” she muttered, burying her face against his shirt. Sarah breathed deeply, basking in the spicy scent that surrounded him, momentarily forgetting about her friend.

Giving her a gentle squeeze, Jareth pressed his lips to the top of her head. “It’s okay, Sarah. You’re safe. You both are,” he added, looking up at Angel and smiling. Blushing, Sarah pulled away only to wrap her arm around Angel.

“You okay?” she asked her friend, relieved when Angel gave a nod, although she still looked rattled.

Jareth came up between them, gently placing a hand on their shoulders to steer them toward the stairs, “Come along, girls…I don’t know about you two, but I could use a drink after dealing with that odious man,” he said, leading them back to the family hallway and his study.

“Um… we’re under age,” Angel murmured, finally finding her voice again.

Chuckling, David gave her shoulder a light squeeze, “I won’t tell if you won’t.”

Once in his office, he released the girls, nodding toward the leather sofa by the fire, “Go ahead and sit down,” he said, although worded as an invitation, Sarah could hear that it was actually an order.

The two girls settled on the sofa, starting to relax after their encounter with Mr. Rayvn. Turning toward the glass fronted display cabinet, Jareth pressed a button inside the top drawer and the glass portion slid back, revealing a well-stocked bar. He poured two generous amounts of port into delicately carved glasses, then handed them to the girls. “Sip these slowly, but I want you to drink all that I’ve given you,” he instructed them, smiling warmly as both girls nodded and began to sip the burgundy liquid without argument. Returning to the bar, he poured himself a large scotch, before settling in his favourite leather chair sitting opposite the sofa.

After several minutes, Sarah finally looked up and smiled at Jareth, “Your timing was impeccable, Gareth.”

“I’ve been told that on more than one occasion, Sarah dear,” he said, his words a teasing purr as he winked at her, making Angel giggle. Glancing at Angel, he grinned, “Now, are you going to play hostess and introduce your friend, or shall I just guess as to what her name is?”

Rolling her eyes, Sarah laughed, “This is Angel Omicioli.”

He nodded thoughtfully, regarding Angel, his look making her squirm at the intensity of it. Sipping his drink he, asked, “I assume you are the granddaughter of Angelo Omicioli, the physist?” At Angel’s nod, he smiled, “Brilliant man, if somewhat opinionated and verbally aggressive.”

“You have no fucking idea,” Angel blurted out, then clapped a hand over her mouth, her eyes wide when she realized what she had said.

Sarah burst into a gale of giggles at her friend’s outburst, while Jareth merely arched an eyebrow at the girl, his lips twisting into an amused smirk.

"Oh my God...I didn't mean to say that out loud!" she gasped, still looking horrified.

Winking at her, Jareth chuckled, "Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."

The three continued to chat until the girls had finished their drinks. Rising, Jareth took their glasses, returning them to the bar and smiling at Angel. “I need to speak to Sarah for a few moments, my dear. It was lovely to meet you and I am sure we will meet again soon. Would you mind waiting for Sarah in her room?”

Grinning now, and slightly tipsy from her first real ‘adult’ drink, Angel bobbed her head in agreement, her olive cheeks rosy from the alcohol. She shook Gareth’s hand then waved at Sarah, “See ya in a bit,” she mumbled, before heading out of the study toward the main staircase.

As soon as she was out of the study, Jareth waved his hand at the door, which slid shut, locking with a sharp click. Crossing the room, Jareth settled back into his chair, his crystal blue eyes narrowed on Sarah.

Gulping, Sarah gazed at her hands in her lap, avoiding his eyes. “So…thanks for rescuing us,” she said quietly.

“I’ve told you, Precious. I will always come when you have need of me,” he purred. “However that is not what I wanted to speak to you about. I will be returning to London tonight by helicopter so that your friend does not suspect anything untoward about my comings and goings. That said, I will not expect you to chat with me at our usual time tomorrow since you are entertaining Angel – but we _will_ be having an accounting of your disobeying my orders Sunday evening.”

Sarah felt her stomach drop at his words, the blood draining from her face as she wrung her hands. Seeing the way she responded, Jareth nodded. “The guilt is written on your face, Sarah mine. We will deal with that infraction when I return. Please stay out of trouble so that you do not compound your punishment, as the days of me being lenient with you are at an end.”

Swallowing heavily, Sarah nodded silently.

“Respond properly, Sarah,” he ordered, his tone not unkind, but still firm.

Sarah took a deep breath to steady her nerves, then raised her eyes to his, not waivering. “Yes, Jareth.”

He smiled gently at that, nodding, “Good girl. You are learning, but we have a way to go to make sure you can hold your own in Fae society.” Rising he held out his hand to her, pleased when she placed hers in it without hesitating. “In the meantime, have fun with your friend, but I would ask that you stay at the manor until I return. As I am sure you noticed, Rayvn is more than he seems.” 

Frowning, Sarah shivered again at the mention of the dark man, “He’s Fae, isn’t he? Unseelie?” she asked.

Jareth pursed his lips, regarding her curiously. “Fae yes. But how did you know he was Unseelie, his dark looks are no real way to judge as there are Seelie who have dark features.”

Wrinkling up her nose, Sarah shook her head, “No, it wasn’t that. At one point when he was talking to me, I saw a double-image of him, looking like a human, but also Fae.  And it made me feel…..” she muttered, letting the thought trail off.

Jareth’s hand gently caressed her cheek, tilting her head up so he could see her face, “Feel what, Precious?”

Her cheeks flushed warmly as she tried to avoid his gaze, his fingertips holding her in place. Finally she shut her eyes, as if not seeing him would make answering him any less awkward. “ _Things_ … Things I shouldn’t feel about a stranger or think about. Dark things that repulsed me and…..”

“And?” he asked quietly.

“And made me want them,” she admitted, dropping her head as soon as his fingers left her face, only to lift it to look at Jareth when he growled, the sound low and angry.

“Damn him,” he snarled, his eyes darkening as magic seemed to buzz around him. “He was attempting to break the rules regarding Fae dealings with humans. He was attempting to use his natural enticements to bespell you and manipulate you.”

Seeing Sarah begin to pull into herself, Jareth forced his anger back, quelling the buzzing of his power until it was a dull hum under his skin once more. “Should you ever encounter him again, I want you to get away from his as quick as you can and call for me, just say my name, Sarah…and I will come,” he said quietly, then leaned forward, tenderly kissing her forehead. “Rayvn is no one to trifle with, even for my Champion. Promise me, Precious,” he demanded, leaning back and looking her in the eye 

“I promise, Jareth,” she agreed with a quiet nod of her head, all the while her mind was churning with images that made her stomach flutter and her breath catch in her throat.

Jareth could feel her arousal and confusion through the link, her revulsion and desire at war with one another. It made him wonder just what she saw when she caught a glimpse of the Unseelie’s nature. He was quite sure it was only a partial glimpse, as if he had truly revealed his nature, neither girl would be in a fit mental state to speak of it. Giving her a reassuring smile, he squeezed her hand, “Go see to your friend and remember your promise,” he said, schooling his expression into a warm smile until she had left the room, before his expression changed to one of anger, tinged with worry.

With Sarah facing her first l’hrev cycle and the unpredictable hormonal disturbances that would come with it, the last thing he needed was a dark Fae sniffing around the manor, since they weren’t above using their Fae nature to manipulate a mortal sexually. Sighing, Jareth wondered if he could convince Sarah to spend the time in his castle where he could protect her properly. The only other option would be to keep her with him at all times, but if her hormonal upheaval was as strong as Maeve believed it would be, keeping her with him would only manage to drive them both insane. In the end, the best option was also the one she would be least likely to agree to. Somehow he suspected she’d rather be locked into an enchanted chastity belt and tossed in an oubliette under the Bog, before she’d consider it.

After all, the only way to truly protect her would be to mark her as his own.

* * *

 

 **Author’s Note:**  Thanks everyone for the lovely reviews. I’m thrilled that you are enjoying my little plot bunny. I’m finding it funny that I was trying to keep this story rated as T, but everyone is asking (and in some cases outright begging) for more Jareth and Sarah action. So… since I love y’all (and I don’t mind writing some steamier scenes)…I *may* just grant your wish. The bribe, as always, is reviews ;) I will gladly offer more snogging and lemons in exchange for reviews *lol*

Also, for the reader who wondered about whether Jareth and Rayvn would take advantage of the fact that Angel has purple streaks in her hair – the ‘pleasure slave’ rule is for purple hair (whole head). Even Jareth will wear purple streaks in his hair for particular ‘social’ events (one of which will be featured later in the story). So, Jareth won’t take advantage of Angel, but Rayvn…well, we already know he has no scruples when it comes to manipulating a mortal. He’s the wild card in this ;)           

And for the Guest who is more interested in Fae issues than ‘high school crap’, you’ll find that this story has a fair bit of both, but at the start it will naturally include more ‘school stuff’ while the characters and their lives developed for the reader. I suppose I could start tagging the chapters #schoolcrap #lemons #snogging… but then, there would be no surprises in the reading.

As always, please review…   they keep my muse happy (which is why y’all are getting a SECOND chapter in as many days!)

 


	12. Ch. 12 - Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

**50 Shades of Fey**

**Ch. 12: Sweet Dreams are Made of This**

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Without noticing that he was doing it, Jareth shifted in his leather arm chair, hooking his right leg over the arm of the chair, while draping his upper body against the other arm. To a casual observer he looked like a man relaxing with a drink, but to anyone who knew Jareth well, they would see that the King had things on his mind – things which weighed heavily on him.

 _What did that bastard want_ , he wondered, his eyes narrowing thoughtfully. Sipping the amber liquid in his glass, his frown deepened. _Does Rayvn know that Sarah is the Labyrinth Champion? For that matter, could he sense her starting to change?_

There were too many questions and not enough answers. Of course, when it came to Sarah, there were always more questions than answers.

Unconsciously he called a glittering silver crystal to his fingers, absently spinning it back and forth across his hand. He knew that Rayvn had attempted to bespell Sarah and from Angel’s reaction, his presence affected her too. As a member of the High Council, he was within his right to lodge a formal complaint, but Rayvn had not done anything overt, so there would be little the council could do. Jareths pursed his lips, considering what little Rayvn had done. Yes, it had affected the girls, but Jareth knew Rayvn was capable of so much more. It was almost as if he was testing the water with them, perhaps seeing what he could get away with -- ‘tasting’ them, as it were. Whatever his reasoning, Jareth didn’t like it. He didn’t like it one bit.

Sighing, he glanced at the crystal, unsurprised to see that it had started to flicker, the contents showing his unconscious desire to see Sarah, to ensure she was safe. With an irritated growl, he set the crystal spinning faster over his hand. While it was true that he needed to protect Sarah, and Angel for that matter since Rayvyen might see her as a way to get to Sarah, he was still torn on the issue of monitoring Sarah through his crystals. As the head of the family it was within his right to do so, particularly where matters of personal safety were concerned, but a part of him, a very large part in point of fact, did not want to do anything that might cause Sarah to lose trust in him – to lose faith in him. Sighing he let his head fall back, shutting his eyes as he debated the best course of action.

He was Sarah’s guardian. Her safety was compromised by Rayvn now knowing that she was here and part of his clan. Angel was in danger merely by her association with Sarah. As the Goblin King, it was his duty to protect those ‘minors’ in his care – which for the moment included Sarah, Toby and Angel. Jareth growled, his jaw tightening in anger. Rayvn’s Unseelie nature and willingness to manipulate mortal passions and thoughts while effectively upon Labyrinthian soil, suggested that he would be willing to bend or break any of the laws regarding interactions with mortals. The question was, how far would the Unseelie go?

Frowning, Jareth opened his eyes and glared at the crystal balanced lightly upon his fingertips. Inside he could see the swirling mists, shifting and twisting in upon themselves, before shimmering to show Sarah standing outside her bedroom door.

As much as he valued Sarah’s privacy, he had to know if Rayvn’s manipulation had any lingering effect on the girls -- Which meant simply, he had to observe them.

 _Just for a bit_ , he told himself _. I’ll only watch for a little while, until I’m sure Sarah…both girls…are sufficiently recovered._

His decision made, the image in the crystal became clearer. The Goblin King watched silently, while allowing himself to follow the shimmering green link to Sarah, sampling her emotions – not surprised to find that her primary emotion was one of confusion. He sighed as he watched Sarah place her hand on the door to her rooms.

 _I am a king. It is my right to monitor my family_ , he thought irritably.

So why then did he feel guilty?

 _Forgive me, Precious_ , he murmured, as the shimmering skin of the crystal began to hum softly.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Walking through the softly lit halls of the manor, Sarah thought over all that had transpired in her short meeting with Jareth. There was so much to sort through that she didn’t know where to start. There was Rayvn of course.  She shuddered at the very thought of him. Jareth needn’t have bothered to tell her to get away from him fast if she ever encountered him again, just seeing him would be enough to make her high tail it as far away from him as possible. ‘ _The castle beyond the Goblin City might be far enough,’_ suggested her sense of self-preservation, and as much as Sarah was afraid to return to the Underground, when it came to Rayvn, she’d even consider an oubliette, if she was sure he couldn’t get to her.

And on top of Rayvn she had Jareth to consider, or rather his actions. Sighing she scuffed her foot along the plush carpet in the front hall as she made her way to the stairs. True, she had been immensely relieved when he had suddenly appeared and ordered Rayvn to leave. Yes, she may have reacted impulsively when she hugged him after the dark Fae had left. And she _may_ have enjoyed his scent and arms around her a bit more than it was acceptable to, when the arms in question belonged to one’s guardian. But clearly she wasn’t the only one who was overstepping the bounds, because she was sure she felt him kiss the top of her head – right there, in front of Angel even! Then again in his study, she knew she was in trouble while he had slipped effortlessly into that ‘stern’ authority figure role, and even knowing that, the sound of his voice, firm and quiet set butterflies fluttering through her stomach. He only added to things when he asked her what Rayvn had made her think and feel, his demeanor a strange mix of tenderness, concern and…possessiveness.

And he kissed her forehead! True, that wasn’t the first time, but for some reason it had felt more meaningful – more intimate.

Shivering, Sarah paused, leaning heavily against the wall at the top of the stairs.

She should be angry that he acted like that. Shouldn’t she? She wasn’t his property, but she was his ward – part of his family. So in essence, she really _was_ his. Wasn’t she? And really, the thought of that, set the butterflies swirling once more. Sarah lightly knocked the back of her head against the wall behind her, trying to force her thoughts into some sort of sense.

 _What the hell is wrong with me?_ She thought irritably. _One minute I want to rip the feathery hair out of his head for being a bossy dictator, the next I just want to crawl inside his suit with him so I can feel his heartbeat and breathe him in._

With a frustrated growl, Sarah pushed off the wall and continued up the hall to her room, as the sound of a helicopter taking off from outside echoed through the manor.

 _Time to keep up the appearance of a normal life,_ she sighed, turning the door knob to her suite.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

“Hey, Sarah,” Angel chirped from her spot on the window seat. “Everything okay with you and Rexy?” Seeing the flat look on her friends face, Angel frowned. “I’m guessing not? He seemed worried about us earlier. What gives?” she asked.

Sarah gave her friend a weak smile and walked into her bedroom, with Angel trailing along behind her. “Oh, he was worried about us. Apparently that Rayvn guy is some nasty piece of work.”

Angel shuddered, flopping on Sarah’s bed as the other girl started to change into her pajamas. “No shit! That guy is seriously bad news. I don’t know about you, but having him looking at me made me…ugh…it made me so uncomfortable,” she said, her cheeks flushing from the memory of the thoughts that raced through her head when Rayvn looked at her.

Seeing her friend blush, Sarah tugged her t-shirt on and sprawled on the bed beside Angel. Turning her head, she nibbled her lip. “Did you… um… have any weird thoughts when Rayvn was here?”

Angel sighed. Despite knowing the more ‘risque’ desires and fantasies she held, the things she thought of when Rayvn was at the house made her cringe – they were dark, filthy things that made her skin crawl. Sitting up, Angel pulled her knees to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. “Look…I’ll be honest with you Sarah. I talk a big game and have lots of fantasies, but the things I thought of when that guy was here, well…they made me want to find the nearest church and bathe in the font!”

Sarah sighed, nodding, “Me too, Angel.”

The two girls were silent for some time before Angel propped her chin on her knees and frowned, “Can I say something without you laughing and thinking I’m crazy?”

Pulling herself to sit, Sarah settled across from her friend, propping her back against the headboard as she tucked Angel’s stuffed octopus into her lap. “You can tell me anything, Angel. Believe me, with some of the things I’ve seen, there isn’t anything you could say that would really surprise me or make me think you’re nuts.”

Angel took her glasses off, rubbing them with the hem of her t-shirt before looking at Sarah again, her expression serious. “That guy…Rayvn…there’s something ‘wrong’ about him. I know it sounds nuts, but bear with me here. I come from a mix of old Irish and Roman Catholic background, so I believe in a weird mix of things – including things that others label as myth or legend. And I’d swear that guy wasn’t human.”

Sarah felt her heartbeat race at Angel’s words, but carefully schooled her expression to remain neutral but interested. “If he isn’t human, what is he?” She watched as a look of fear came over Angel, her fingers twisting fretfully into the soft pink blanket at the foot of Sarah’s bed.

“If I had to guess, the Catholic in me says he’s a demon, but the Celt says he’s Fae – dark Sidhe that is,” Angel muttered, before the frown pursed her lips once more. “Of course, when it comes to being evil and immoral, I don’t suppose there is much difference between a demon and a dark Sidhe.”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Lounging across his throne in the Goblin Kingdom, Jareth watched the two girls talk, smiling in surprise at Angel’s revelation. She was quite close in fact, as dark Sidhe and the ‘demons’ of the Catholic faith were really one in the same. Tilting his head he watched Angel carefully. Yes, she was unusually perceptive for a mortal who was not clearly fae-touched. Given her heritage, he wouldn’t be surprised if there was some druid blood in her, or maybe a bit of kitchen witch even. He would have to keep a close watch on her. Perhaps in time, should the girl show aptitude in addition to perception, he may even need to arrange for her to be properly trained, since companions to the Goblin Queen needed to be adequately prepared for any situation that might arise.

At that thought, Jareth sat up, scowling at the crystal.

 _When the bloody hell did Sarah being Goblin Queen seriously enter the equation?_ He growled at himself.

 _The minute you realized that others would come sniffing around her once she is introduced to Fae society_ – countered his inner-self, while his libido added – _and once you realized that Rayvn has ‘tasted’ her and found her to be quite the sweet thing indeed. Of course, that delightful scent of her desire when she is around you doesn’t hurt either._

Frown lines creased the Goblin King’s forehead as he began to pace the throne room, the goblins watching their agitated monarch warily. _She’s mine_ , he thought, and for once the various parts of his psyche were in complete agreement. _If anyone is going to properly taste the girl, it will be me! And bogdamnit she will know she has been tasted!_

Of course the difficulty would be in making Sarah want the same. Although from the way she clung to him when Rayvn left, and the way she accepted his caress while in his office, that day may not be as far away as he had originally thought.

After several minutes, Jareth paused his pacing, taking note of the fact that his once crowded throne room was now devoid of any life – except for himself and a lone chicken who was at that very moment deciding that self-preservation was the better part of valor, and was rapidly clucking its way toward the hall.

With a huff he threw himself back upon the throne, the crystal once more balanced upon his fingertips, before he blew across it, sending the shimmering orb floating upon the air, to glide gracefully out the open balcony doors. He had seen enough to know that the girls were recovering nicely from their run-in with Rayvn, and despite acknowledging his desire to make Sarah his, he himself, had enough sense of self-preservation to know that king or not, Sarah’s trust was key to ensuring his heart’s desire. Besides, he had more pressing concerns than eavesdropping on the remains of the slumber party – there was a dark Fae sniffing about his girl and that could not be allowed to continue, particularly given the alluring scent Sarah was starting to put out.

Breathing deep, Jareth felt a tremor run through him at the smell.

L’hrev was near. By the Gods, just that faint hint of pheromones made him want her.  Once it truly began, all bets were off.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

“So you never answered me before we got side-tracked with Rayvn,” Angel said, munching on a handful of popcorn, while Sarah fiddled with the stereo. “Are you and Rexy okay? I mean, you didn’t look too happy when you got back.”

Sarah turned the stereo on, then dropped back onto the sofa she had been lounging on. Rolling onto her stomach, she dug a hand into the communal popcorn bowl and nibbled a few of the creamy puffs before answering. “Things are…complicated. That’s why I wasn’t happy. Yes, he did mention his concern about the whole Rayvn thing, but he also informed me that I’m in trouble for disobeying him. He knows, Angel,” she sighed.

“Knows what?” Angel asked, then her eyes widened in realization. “Oh no! How did he find out? Seriously…how could he know we went for pizza in the village? What’s he got? Spies in the local pizzeria kitchen?”

“More like goblins,” Sarah muttered under her breath, coughing to cover it up when Angel gave her a quizzical look. “It doesn’t matter how he found out, all I know is that he did. And once you leave on Sunday, we’ll be having a _chat_ about my ‘punishment’ for it.”

“Would it help if I told him it was my idea? I don’t want to see you get in trouble for something that was my fault,” Angel offered, munching thoughtfully on a chocolate covered pretzel from the bag next to her. “I mean, you did say you shouldn’t and I talked you into it.”

Sarah shook her head, “No. That kind of excuse won’t fly with Gareth. He values honor,” she explained, her heartbeat racing as she came to the realization that in all of his dealings with her, Jareth had always done the honorable thing – even taking Toby was honorable, after all, she wished him away – it was his duty to take him. He was honor-bound to do so. “Honor…and owning up to your own mistakes are really important to him.”

Angel sighed, “I’m sorry you got in trouble, Sarah. Any idea what he’ll do to punish you?”

Biting her lip, Sarah considered the situation and had some ideas of what Jareth would do – not that she could share any of them with Angel. “No clue,” she lied, then shrugged. “And I have no choice but to deal with it, that’s the agreement.”

“Agreement?” Angel asked, rolling onto her side, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. “What do you mean?”

With a sigh, Sarah tried to figure out where to begin explaining things, without giving away the true nature of her relationship with Jareth.

 _Relationship? Are we in a relationship with him now?_ Demanded her inner-self, while her libido supplied some rather tasty images of what being in a _real_ relationship with Jareth might entail. Growling inwardly, Sarah ignored them, instead she smiled at Angel.

“Dad was a lawyer for Gareth and as it turns out, they were something of…well…friends. So Dad asked Gareth to act as our guardian in his will,” she explained, playing with a chocolate covered pretzel as she considered the next bit. “As part of the guardianship agreement, I essentially gave Gareth power over me – my education, life and well-being,” she added. Granted, what she told Angel was all true, she just omitted some of the parts Angel didn’t need to know. Shrugging Sarah popped the pretzel in her mouth. “That means when I screw up and break Gareth’s rules, I face the consequences.”

Angel looked worried, her little face pinched in a frown. “Ugh…I am so sorry. That has to suck having someone who isn’t even your parent punishing you for stuff.”

“Well, it is different,” Sarah admitted with a slight nod. “But in a way, the fact that he has rules and holds me to them kind of shows that he cares. I mean, he promised Dad that he’d take care of Toby and I and make sure we grew up to be the best versions of ourselves we can be. If he didn’t care about the promise or us, he wouldn’t bother. Y’know? He could have just dropped us both off at a boarding school and never seen us again. But he didn’t. He brought us here, treats us like family and even named us his heirs. It’s only fair that I hold up my end of the agreement.”

Listening thoughtfully, Angel nodded. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.” Then she turned and grinned at Sarah, her brown eyes flashing merrily. “So tell me honestly, aside from the agreement, what’s going on with you two? ‘Cause, judging by the way you were hanging onto each other after Rayvn was sent packing, and the way he teased you in his study – this is not some cold, distant ‘guardian/guardee’ relationship we’re talking about.”

Sarah groaned, snatching up a throw pillow from the sofa and holding it over her face as she screamed into it, then mumbled against the fabric.

“What’s that? I didn’t hear your confession of true love…or was it absolute lust?” Angel giggled, yelping as Sarah threw the pillow at her, hitting her square in the face.

“Like I said…it’s complicated,” Sarah grumbled.

Tucking the pillow under her head, Angel grinned. “Come on…surely you think he’s handsome.”

Sarah sighed and nodded, her mind dredging up a picture of him dressed in the tight grey breeches, boots and leather jacket he wore when he taunted her in the tunnels under the Wise Man’s garden. Hell, even a suit from the Aboveground, he looked like sex incarnate.

“Okay, good to know you aren’t blind or completely oblivious to the fine specimen of male sexuality that you are currently co-habitating with,” Angel laughed.

“We aren’t co-habitating,” Sarah grumbled in protest, pulling another pillow over her face as she flopped on her back on the sofa.

Angel shrugged, “You live under the same roof. It’s the same thing….Moving on! Do you like him?”

“No…yes…No…I dunno… it depends on the day, the time and how angry he’s made me,” Sarah muttered from under the pillow.

“Check! So, we have co-habitating and the fact that you do like him, even if he drives you nuts,” Angel chirped, clearly enjoying this line of questioning. “So now the question is, does he like you? I mean… as more than just the daughter of his former lawyer.”

Groaning, Sarah turned her head, peering at her friend, still hidden mostly under the pillow. “Of course he doesn’t. He’s….”

 _A king_ – inserted her inner-self.

 _Sexy as hell_ – suggested her libido.

“My guardian and a millionaire,” Sarah said to Angel. “There is no way on Earth that he would like me in that way. I’m just… just a girl. He must have rich, gorgeous women falling all over him.”

“Honey, you’re 17 and in this country that makes you legal and not jail bait. He may be all those things, but he’s also male, human and has two eyes in his head. Besides, I saw the way he looked at you in his office and the look on his face when he kissed the top of your head in the hall. Believe it or not, but he _really_ does care,” Angel argued. “He did _not_ look at you like you were merely a child he was responsible for. He looked at you like he wanted to take you away and protect you from anything and everything – like…like a Princess or something.”

Choking at that, Sarah shook her head vigorously, then gave a muffled scream into the pillow again, before launching it across the room. “You’re delusional,” she protested. “This isn’t some fairy tale. And I don’t want to talk about him anymore. He’s just my guardian, nothing more.”

 _Nothing…Tra-la-la_ – trilled her mind, as her libido giggled wildly and went back to thinking of Jareth and his lovely crop.

“Fine… let’s talk about Angus,” Angel giggled, waggling her eyebrows as Sarah groaned. “Ohh!! Even better…let’s look at porn!” she suggested, clapping her hands and diving for her backpack. “We can try to see what physique Rexy is hiding under those sexy suits of his….not like I have a suit fetish or anything,” she grinned, while Sarah laughed and rolled her eyes.

“You are incorrigible,” she chuckled.

“Insatiable,” Angel corrected.

“That too,” Sarah conceded.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

While Angel was dragging Sarah along into some more questionable trains of thought, Jareth was dealing with some questionable thoughts of his own – most notably how to deal with Sarah’s change. Or more precisely, how to deal with it in a way that she would accept.

For hours now he had been walking the secret paths of the Room of Stairs, his feet moving without thought over the stairs and platforms, leaving his mind free to mull over the nature of his dilemma. Her first change was going to be unpredictable enough without having Rayvn in the mix, and he was a wild card that Jareth didn’t need. But what was the solution?

Each time that question came forward, his mind shouted back – _Claim her!_

And each time that thought came up, he fought it back down. Although her reactions to him tonight suggested that her attraction to him was growing, with Sarah it was best to move slowly.  After all, he had rushed things with her once before and perhaps if he hadn’t, marking her would not even be in question as it would have been done, and she’d be bound to him already. Yes, claiming her would solve the problem, but Sarah did not view him like that. She would never accept it and all that came with it – not yet anyway.

Sighing he followed the paths, up and down, back and forth, considering his options while he traversed the illogical and mind-boggling planes of the room. As he walked, he periodically opened the link to Sarah, amused to find that embarrassment and girlish desire, tinged with confusion, had taken over as her primary emotional palate. While the confusion was still there, it felt different somehow, as if something had changed. As he considered this, the corner of his mouth twisted into a smirk. She was attracted to him. That was it – that was why her confusion felt different tonight. Granted, she was still confused, but desire and love were confusing things at the best of times for mortals.

He stopped again, leaning against the engraved stone wall, the crystal gliding easily over his gloved hands. Love. He was quite sure she did not love him yet, although given time and the right encouragement that was the probable outcome. The question that plagued him was whether he loved her. He cared for her, that much was certain. He worried for her safety and happiness, as well as disliking her unhappiness intensely. And he certainly felt jealousy and rage at the thought of another person – mortal, Fae or any other species, taking her from him. But was that love? Being Fae he was uncertain, since many of his ilk either denied their ability to love or denied that it was different from simple lust or attraction. Of course, Jareth was not just any Fae. He had more dealings with mortals and had tasted the joy and pain of love through those mortals he had interacted with over his years as Goblin King.

Considering the way Sarah’s happiness and safety affected him, he thought perhaps that he might be growing to love the girl.

Love. Sarah.

He knew he didn’t love her when she ran his Labyrinth, as sure as he knew the precise location of each and every one of his goblin horde at any given moment. No, he hadn’t loved her, although he had coveted her for her depth of imagination, belief and in the end, her devotion to the child. He had meant what he said to her in this very room on that fateful night – he promised her the moon, her dreams…and himself. But he never offered her his love, he realized. It would have been unheard of for a Fae to do so, much less the mighty Goblin King, Lord of the Labyrinth, the Guardian of Dreams and Dreamers.

 _My how things have changed in just a few weeks_ , he mused, pushing from the wall to tread the sacred pathways of the room. _How you’ve turned my world, Precious_.

Twisting his hand, he peered into the crystal that appeared in his grasp, watching the two girls laughing and throwing popcorn at each other as they chatted in Sarah’s lounge. A warm smile spread across his face, as he let the image fall black then tossed the crystal to the other side of the room, his feet slowly and steadily walking the planes to retrieve it. On the whole, he was pleased that she seemed to recover so quickly from her encounter with the dark Fae; in fact both girls seemed to have returned to what passed for ‘normal’ in a teenage girl.  

Pushing away thoughts of loving or claiming Sarah, Jareth turned his mind toward how to protect the girls from Rayvn. With the strength of her emotions and scent growing in the lead-up to her first l’hrev cycle, Jareth couldn’t leave the familial link wide open or he’d slowly go mad, and with the link closed, he wouldn’t know if she was in danger until it had fully presented himself – and when dealing with a member of the royal line, by that point it would be too late.

No. He needed another way. It needed to be powerful and preferably something that could be applied to both girls. Ordinarily he’d use a crystal shield for such a purpose, but a shield could be penetrated with magic. Whatever he used needed to be more subtle, something so simple that an Unseelie wouldn’t suspect it. He had an inkling of an idea, but it needed more thought before he could act.

Turning, he changed direction, walking an improbable plane leading upward, upside down from a side wall to what was (in effect) the ceiling. He had reached the highest point when he felt a tremor run through the familial link from Sarah. Waving his hand he called the rolling crystal to him. As soon as his fingers grasped it, the sweet smell of desire assailed him, drenching him in her scent, the sensation so powerful it dropped him to his knees.

“Dear Gods,” he gasped, crashing to the stones. She was on another plane, not bound to him, and yet her scent poured over him as if she were standing right next to him. Groaning he fought to close the link, to block off the force of her emotions, as all the while his own magic fought against him, wanting nothing more than to act on the strong scent. Deep within his very being, he felt the pull to rush to her – to claim her in the ancient ways. For several long minutes he stayed as still as a statue, hanging improbably upside down, while he struggled to close the link. When he finally succeeded, Jareth rolled onto his side on the stone walkway, welcoming the feel of the cool slate through his silk shirt. “She’ll be the death of me,” he panted, staring down at the goblins congregating in the arched doorway of the room, watching him with concern. _But what a way to go_ – moaned his libido.

Sitting up, he leaned against the wall, propping his arm on his bent knee, his other leg stretched out in front of him. Her scent was getting stronger, and appearing at random times. If it had flared while Rayvn was here and before Jareth was warned by Louis, he was sure Sarah would have been in serious peril. Frowning, he twirled the crystal on his fingertips. The big question at the moment was a matter of why – why did her scent flare just then?

Jareth concentrated on the crystal, amused to see the girls had moved the piano bench in front of Sarah’s computer, the two of them huddled close together on it as they looked at the screen, giggling and whispering so softly he couldn’t hear what they said.

“What _are_ you two doing?” he murmured, twisting the crystal slightly to change the view. “Well…well…what have we here, Precious?” he purred, a sly smile curling his lips as he looked at the screen over the girls’ shoulders. “Naughty, naughty, Sarah darling. What _am_ I going to do with you?” Blinking as he looked at the images on the screen, he chuckled, “Darling…if you think _that_ is intriguing, just wait until you see the things _I_ can show you.”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

After seeing what the girls were up to, Jareth watched a few minutes longer, shaking his head at the more ‘adventurous’ images they chose to view. He suspected this turn of events was driven more by Angel than Sarah, but if Sarah’s scent that kept wafting through the room was anything to go by, she wasn’t finding the images objectionable -- Quite the opposite in fact.

Having seen enough to know they were not in any immediate danger except from their overworked teenage hormones, Jareth flicked his wrist upward, sending the crystal floating toward the floor of the room, the currents of the improbable planes making it twist and turn in the air before popping. Of course, now that he knew why the pheromone surge took place, he fully expected another surge shortly, given that she and Angel were still perusing the Internet. Even with the familial link closed, her scent lingered in the air around him, just not as strongly. It would not do to be around his subjects or the goblin horde if it surged strongly again. No, it would be best to be far away…and perhaps to be something other than what he was.

Smiling he rose, striding down the plane toward the sideways balcony that opened out from the wall. There was only one way he would be immune from her scent – after all, owls cared not a jot for the mating scents of the Fae, or any other species for that matter.

Jareth shut his eyes, drawing in a deep breath as his form began to shift; fabric, flesh and bone seeming to merge and transform. It was an odd sensation, not unlike orgasm in many ways. Every nerve ending tingled and throbbed with the magical alignment, before he felt the rush of energy through him. With a resounding ‘snap’ his wings opened and he leapt from the balcony, soaring effortlessly upon the air currents that danced around the castle. Opening his beak, the Goblin King let loose a loud cry, the sound echoing against the stones of the Labyrinth below him.

No more could he smell the girl, her desire no longer pulling at his ancient drive to claim and mate. Instead, he was free to think, to plan and to feel – able to sample her emotions, but not be affected by them.

If only remaining in his owl form until Sarah was completely Fae was a viable option.

Enjoying his freedom, Jareth slowly floated upon the air, letting it carry him along, with his kingdom shimmering far below in the deepening purple of the evening sun. Over time he felt Sarah tire, the sensation of embarrassment easing until it faded completely, while the feeling of desire and hesitant confusion remained. As he felt her link to him begin to pulse with the steady rhythm of her sleeping heartbeat, he turned back toward the castle, to seek his own bed. Oddly, he was sure she was asleep, yet he felt a wave of fear, tinged desire course through her, along with a whimpered plea of ‘Please.’

Flying through the balcony doors of his castle chambers, he transformed before his feet touched the plush rug beside the bed, loose linen sleeping trousers hanging low on his hips. He felt the rush of desire and need flow from the link, the sensation strong enough to make him gasp in surprise. She was dreaming…she had to be. Stretching out upon the pillows at the head of the bed, Jareth called a shining crystal to his now bare hand. While he was bound by Fae law not to interfere in the dreams of mortals, strictly speaking, Sarah was no longer a mortal.

“I won’t interfere,” he murmured as her image came into view within the crystal. “I’ll merely watch for a moment.”

He could see the two girls, both fast asleep. Sarah was curled on her side under the covers, one foot hanging off the edge of the bed and peeking out from under the sheet. Angel was sprawled on her back on the pallet bed next to Sarah, one arm thrown over her eyes, the other wrapped tightly around a pink stuffed octopus. Smiling, Jareth watched the two of them, their breathing slow and even as only those lost to the peace of deep sleep have.

Moaning in her sleep, Sarah shifted, her face pinching in distress as she whispered, “Jareth…Please.”

Arching an eyebrow, Jareth smiled in surprise, twisting the crystal slightly. A purple haze clouded the image of Sarah’s slumber, as the picture within shifted to show her dream. Touching his finger against the shimmering surface, he felt a part of himself being pulled into the dream to observe.

He found himself standing in a stone walled room, with a heavy door. In the middle of the room was a wooden table that Jareth recognized as a medieval period rack, with Sarah strapped to it with heavy manacles, her dress ripped and torn. Frowning he noticed damp patches of crimson marring the pale blue of the dress. Sarah was moaning, looking up at the figure standing over her. Jareth couldn’t see him clearly, but knew he was Fae. The figure was wearing tight black leather trousers, with knee high black boots that encased his calves. Over his back flowed what appeared to be a black silk shirt, while a plaited black leather whip coiled through his hands as if it were alive. The man in black made no sound, merely looking down at Sarah, while trailing a leather gloved hand down the center of her body, where the dress had been torn open. “Please Jareth,” Sarah whimpered, her voice soft and tired.

Hearing this as a plea for help, he tried to move forward, but found that he was stuck in place against the stone wall. Still trying to move so he might see who the dark figure was, his breath caught in his throat when the man in the middle of the room stalked slowly around the rack, until Jareth could see – himself.

The man torturing Sarah appeared to be himself, yet there was something decidedly off about him. His eyes were pitch black, and his hair was threaded through with black and red streaks, which from the look of things were natural and not ceremonial.

“This isn’t right,” muttered a quiet voice to his left.

Glancing in the direction of the voice, he saw another Sarah, this one wearing the pajamas he had seen her wearing in her room, her green eyes pale and a troubled expression on her face.

Wringing her hands, she shook her head.“No…no…no…this is all wrong,” she whispered as the Jareth in the center of the room shifted back, the whip uncoiling from around his wrist and hand, to slither upon the stones. Seeing the man rear back with the whip, Sarah clapped her hands over her eyes, moaning when the small room was filled with a vicious cracking sound and a scream from the bound Sarah.

“This isn’t how it should be,” the Sarah near him murmured, sounding as if she were on the verge of tears.

The Jareth in the middle of the room reached down and roughly groped the bound Sarah’s breast, making her whimper and squirm, trying in vain to get away, despite being held fast by the restraints.

The Sarah to his left whimpered as well, drawing his attention again, trying to move away from the wall, her struggle fruitless as she too seemed to be held fast in place. “I’m telling you…this isn’t right,” she said, looking right at him this time, her eyes seeming to plead with him to understand.

“Are you speaking to me, Precious?” he asked, trying desperately to sort out what was happening – this was not the dream he had expected when he entered the crystal.  

A look of relief crossed her face at his words. “Yes. You’re here, by the wall with me. And there are two other versions of us over there, so logic tells me I must be able to speak to _this_ version of you, since the other versions of myself and you refuse to listen to me,” she said, then frowned, running a shaking hand through her hair. “Of course… this is a dream, so logic can’t be relied upon. Nothing is as it seems in dreams.”

Jareth smiled to himself as he realized that the Sarah who was speaking to him was a shadow representation of her inner-self, comprised of her sense of logic, her desires and her perceptions of the world. She believed that the version of himself that she was speaking to was just a part of the dream. Playing along he nodded.

“True, dreams are rarely ruled by logic, Precious,” he said, fighting back the urge to cringe as the other Jareth whipped the bound Sarah again. He was not adverse to a bit of whip-play, but what he was witnessing was hardly ‘play’ in the pleasurable sense. The Sarah next to him flinched, shrinking closer to him.

“This isn’t how the dream is supposed to go,” she muttered, the buried her face against his shoulder when the other Sarah screamed.

“Well, this is your dream, Sarah,” Jareth said quietly, stroking her head. “I have no power over your dreams. It is up to you to change them if they distress you, love.”

Sarah peered up at her, her green eyes shining both with tears and confusion. “Love?” she asked, then sighed. “See, that is how I know this is a dream. You don’t love me…and _he_ certainly doesn’t,” she added, gesturing at the other Jareth who now had a gloved hand tight around the other Sarah’s face.

Jareth felt his jaw tighten at the display of brutality from his doppelganger. He shared Sarah’s desire to alter things, but unlike her, he was bound by Fae law not to interfere.

Reaching out, Jareth gently cupped Sarah’s cheek, “To begin with, Precious. You do not know my true feelings for you. I may love you.”

Her green eyes fell upon the scene before them again and she seemed lost in thought for a moment. “No…you don’t love me,” she frowned again, then waved her hand at the scene in the room. “I don’t know what that is…hate perhaps? Revenge? But it isn’t love.”

“So change it, Sarah,” he replied, wrapping his arm around her and smiling as her dream-self seemed to lean into him, tucking herself against his side.

“I’ve tried. I can’t,” she muttered, cringing again when the other Jareth began to take off his shirt.

As Jareth watched, he saw the other Jareth’s face and hair briefly change, morphing into the dark wisps and countenance of Rayvn. Sarah shuddered, clinging to him, her face buried against his chest.

“Shit…this isn’t my dream, but I know what’s coming next,” she moaned. “I can’t watch.”

Jareth looked on in horror as the Jareth/Rayvn figure ripped the rest of the other Sarah’s dress open, before climbing on top of her, while the other Sarah struggled and cried out for him to stop. Frowning, Jareth tightened his arms around the girl clinging to him, as he witnessed what she could not bear to watch. Finally, seeing too much, he shut his eyes and dropped his head atop hers, “Change it Sarah. Only you can do it,” he said again, trying to block out the sounds of brutality that were coming from the other side of the room.

Sarah shook her head against his chest, not moving.  “I can’t. _He_ won’t let me,” she said, a hand slipping from between their bodies and pointing toward the opposite corner of the stone cell.

Looking up, Jareth instinctively tightened his hold on Sarah further, seeing Rayvn standing in the far corner, dressed in the crisp dark suit and wool coat he had been wearing earlier in the evening. At the sight of him, Jareth was left wondering if that Rayvn was as real as he was, or just a figment of Sarah’s dream. Rayvn gave Jareth a malicious sneer, then his whole figure shifted, morphing into a large raven. Growling Jareth realized that Sarah wouldn’t have known that Rayvn had the ability to shape-shift, or what his primary shifting form was, which left only one possible answer -- Rayvn had been manipulating Sarah’s dream all along, which was why she couldn’t change it on her own. With a loud caw, the raven took off and vanished, as the Jareth doppelganger’s face fully transformed into Rayvn’s, his head turning to leer triumphantly at Jareth.

Holding his Sarah against his chest, he murmured in her ear, “Sarah…Precious…trust me. You can change the dream. You have the power now. Try again.”

Kissing the top of her head he felt her relax against him, then the room seemed to shimmer, changing. He shut his eyes to block out the disorienting feeling of dream-shifting, merely holding Sarah close, a gloved hand spread warmly against the middle of his back, caressing her gently.

“That’s my girl,” he whispered to her, his eyes still shut. “You’re doing it.”

After several more moments he felt warmth and sensed a gentle glow in the room. Opening his eyes he saw they were now in his study at the manor. Sensing the change of scene, Sarah looked up at him. “Is _he_ gone?” she asked.

Peering around, Jareth nodded, smiling at her as he caressed her cheek. “Yes love, he is gone.”

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief and let go of him, leaving him missing her arms around his middle.  She slowly turned around, although she remained tucked against his side, with Jareth’s arm around her back. “Why did you bring us here?” she asked, looking puzzled.

“I didn’t, Sarah. Remember, it is against Fae law for me to manipulate your dreams,” he said, watching as another Jareth walked into the room now, his expression firm. The other Jareth sat in his usual leather chair, crystal blue eyes watching the grandfather clock as it began to chime the hour. At the stroke of 9, he frowned, shaking his head. Time seemed to speed up then, the minutes ticking faster on the clock, which now looked eerily like the thirteen hour clock in his throne room.

“That’s not fair! Stop speeding up time,” Sarah protested, stepping away from him and folding her arms over her chest as she glared angrily at him.

“Precious, how many times must I tell you that I have no power over your dreams,” Jareth huffed, starting to get irritated by her insistence that he was running her dream.

She frowned, looking from Jareth to the quickly ticking clock. “But I don’t recognize this dream.”

Jareth shrugged, “Dreams are funny things, Sarah. They are born of our experiences, fears and desires. My study is hardly unknown to you, neither is your being late for our meetings. Perhaps you are merely replaying that instance of being late.”

Tilting her head, she peered at the clock again, “No… the clock says that it is a quarter past. I wasn’t that late.”

Pursing his lips in thought, Jareth nodded. It was true, she had never been that late to an evening appointment with him. In fact, she hadn’t been late since that first night, always managing to be in the door by the final stroke of 9. At that moment the study door opened and another Sarah entered, she walked in with a grin, clearly unrepentant for her tardiness.

“Evening Rexy,” she said with a cheeky smirk.

“You’re late, girl,” the other Jareth stated, his tone low and hard. “You know what that means. One swat for each minute, plus another 5 for your insulting manner of addressing me.” Snapping his fingers, his brown leather crop appeared in his hand.

The Sarah standing in front of the fireplace seemed to smile wider, a hungry look in her eyes as she looked at the crop in his hand. Without argument she turned and went to bend over the arm of the sofa, only to stop when the other Jareth chuckled, the sound a deep purr of amusement. “Oh no, Sarah mine. You’ve been entirely _too_ cheeky of late. I know what you really want…what you _need_ …and it would have been far better had you asked for it instead of pushing me.”

Both Sarahs blushed deeply at his words, while the real Jareth arched an eyebrow in surprise at this turn of events.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” the other Sarah said, putting her hands on her hips as she glared at him in challenge.

The dream Jareth cocked his head, giving the other Sarah a dark smile. “Unfasten your jeans,” he ordered, the words quiet but firm.

Jareth saw that Sarah shiver, a look of ‘want’ flashing in her eyes, then he was hit from both girls with a wave of desire through the familial link, with the sweet scent of need wafting toward him from the Sarah standing near him. Biting back a groan of his own, Jareth watched as the dream Sarah’s hands slowly fell to her waist, deftly freeing the metal button and zipper.

“Now…turn around,” ordered the other Jareth, his fingers lightly playing over the end of the crop. “Take your position, _Precious_ ,” he purred. “And I will give you what you _deserve_. What you so clearly _need.”_

Turning, the other Sarah bent over the heavily padded arm of the leather sofa, the look on her face both puzzled and expectant.

“How many swats have you earned for tonight, girl,” Jareth asked, as he hooked his fingers into the back of her jeans, slowly tugging them down to her knees and exposing a pair of red lace knickers.

“Twenty,” she replied with a breathy quality to her voice.

The Jareth laughed softly, “I am _quite_ sure these are not allowed at the academy,” he said, a fingertip tracing along the red lace covering the upper curve of her bum. “I should give you another five for ignoring school rules.”

At his words that Sarah practically moaned with desire, while the one standing next to the real Jareth gave a soft moan of embarrassment. “This is _sooooo_ not my dream!” she protested, sounding more like she was trying to convince herself rather than Jareth.

Glancing at the Sarah standing near him, Jareth’s eyes narrowed, taking in the vaguely horrified look on her face, and the pink flush that was creeping across her cheeks. “If this is not the dream you want, change it,” he said, inwardly amused by her reaction, as well as that of her dream self. “Although, to be honest, I fail to see the problem with this particular dream.”

“Its…its…just wrong,” Sarah muttered, fidgeting with her hands rather than looking, as the other Jareth raised his hand and brought the crop down against the rounded ass of the other Sarah with a loud smack.

“Why?” he asked. “It’s perfectly fine to want and even enjoy a bit of pain, Sarah.”

The dream Sarah moaned, arching her back for more, as the other Sarah wrinkled her face and turned an even brighter shade of red.

“Not from you though,” she replied.

Jareth chuckled. “Well, I certainly hope you aren’t going around asking the boys from school to take a crop to you. I shall be quite put out if _that_ is the case, Precious,” he teased.

Sarah gawped at him and squeaked, “I’d NEVER do that!”

Smiling he reached out and took her hand, drawing her back to his side, then wrapping his arm around her back again.

“Precious, listen to me and believe me when I say, it is okay to want these things,” he said gently. “When you are ready for them, come speak to me… you don’t need to purposefully break rules to get what you need.”

“I don’t need _that_ ,” she protested again, then her lower lip trembled as she dropped her head. “Besides, the real you would only laugh. You’d never think of me like that,” she whispered, sounding almost sad.

Leather covered fingers tenderly curled under her chin, tilting her face upward, “You might be surprised what the real me would do, Sarah. But I promise you, he won’t laugh at you. No matter what you may think, he will always give you what you need, even if you yourself don’t understand your own desires. And he will _always_ keep you safe.”

Slowly he lowered his head toward hers, taking in the gentle hitch in her breath as his lips neared hers.

“Promise?” she whispered, her jade eyes hooded in anticipation, while the breath of her words lightly teased across his lips.

“I promise, Precious,” Jareth murmured, then closed the distance between their lips. He hadn’t intended to kiss her, but having her that near and not fighting him, made him want more. His lips touched hers, like the gentle caress of satin against silk. She gave a quiet sigh, tentatively responding to the kiss. As his lips drew more of hers, she opened herself to it, the kiss deepening slowly. His tongue teased lightly against her lip, before delving behind it, sipping at her and relishing the sweetness within. When she moaned, it was nearly his undoing. He wanted nothing more than to take her then and there – Fae law be damned!

Breaking the kiss, he rested his forehead lightly against hers, fighting against the furor in his body that demanded he claim her as his own. Finally he straightened up again, watching her lazily lick her lips, then smile at him. “Now that is more like it,” she purred quietly, her green eyes gazing at him with a decidedly cat-like expression.

“Like what, Sarah mine?” he asked, cupping her cheek with his hand and smiling as she leaned into it.

“That’s how my dreams usually go,” she answered, reaching up and running her fingers lightly through the feathery hair falling against his throat.

He cocked his head, watching her with interest, now unsure whether she had inserted the kiss into the dream, or he had broken Fae law and created it. “What? You dream of kissing me? Well…I’m flattered, although I must confess I’m a bit disappointed. I always thought hormonally driven teen girls had more interesting dreams involving a bit more than mere kisses.”

Sarah grinned openly at him now, her fingertips teasing over the pointed tip of his ear, making him hiss and shut his eyes, as she teased them over a sensitive spot that made him tremble.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Jareth,” she purred in a low, seductive voice. “What makes you think that even in my dreams, your kisses are a ‘mere’ anything?”

“Indeed…I promise you, love…I am no ‘mere’ anything,” he purred back, his hand sliding up into her hair.

“Too much talking,” she murmured, her green eyes darkening as she slid both hands into the hair at the back of his head. “Now shut up and kiss me, Goblin King,” she ordered with a sultry smile, before pulling him down into a heated kiss, her own lips demanding upon his.

 _Well, if she is the one running the dream, I’d be a cad to deny her what she wanted,_ Jareth thought, wrapping one arm around her back as the other cradled the back of her head. If the girl wanted a kiss, then a kiss she would have, and he’d make damn sure the reality of his kiss would far exceed anything her lovely dreams had shown her so far. And more importantly, he’d leave both her dream self and real self craving more.

It was only fair, after all.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

For several minutes, all Jareth knew was the feel of dream Sarah’s lips upon his, then the feeling faded as purple fog surrounded him. Slowly the dream Sarah faded from view. Opening his eyes, Jareth found himself lying upon his bed, still holding the crystal which was now clouded over, signaling that Sarah’s dreaming had come to an end. Smiling he flipped the crystal into the air, letting it dissipate, to extinguish the lights in his chambers.

While Sarah’s dreams were not what he expected, the whole experience was quite illuminating. At least in her dreams, Sarah wanted him – even it was just his kisses. From the way she responded to the scene in his study, there was at least a part of her that was curious about more ‘adult’ activities, but that part could wait. For now he had all the information he needed. He had a chance to regain what he had lost years before by letting his foolish pride get in the way. Now all he had to do was act carefully, biding his time while he worked to foster a greater depth of feeling in the girl.

Breathing deep, he realized that the sweet scent of Sarah’s desire had faded to a lingering aura. Apparently kissing him in her dreams offered enough of a release to tone down her need. Pondering this, he wondered whether he could merely encourage such dreams during l’hrev, as a means of keeping the scent surges to a minimum. It was as good of an idea as any others he had come up with.

The more troubling part of the whole evening was the fact that Rayvn had been manipulating her dreams in the first place.  Jareth’s lip curled in a growl, baring his teeth. He would deal with Rayvn – first by protecting Sarah and her friend, then by initiating a formal complaint with the Council.

“She’s _mine_ ,” he snarled, his blue eyes glowing briefly in the dark before he shut them, forcing himself to relax in the knowledge that she was in his keeping, and he would move the very stars to keep her there.


	13. Ch. 13 Hearts Filthy Lesson

**50 Shades of Fey**

**Author’s Note:** For the folks waiting for a (waaaaaaaaay) long overdue update and conclusion to _The Ties That Bind_ – Believe me, I am trying to get you something. The downside it has been soooo long since I’ve worked on that story that I’m struggling (majorly). I am considering doing a complete revamp of the story to make it flow better and fix some awkward parts, tighten things up, etc… as it was my first ever fanfic and I really had no clue what I was doing (hell, the story was supposed to stop at the end of their first ‘scene’ at the club!). At the moment I have the _50 Shades_ Jareth & Sarah stuck so far in my head that writing on other things will be difficult for the time being. So, I will continue to write madly on this particular story until my muse for it leaves me high and dry, all while trying to get my head back into _TTB_.

In the meantime, thank you for your interest in that story after so many years unfinished – that really does mean quite a bit to me. I promise that I WILL finish it and give you long-time and loyal readers some closure on it. J

And many thanks for the lovely reviews of the last chapter, they made me smile and made my fingers itch to write more. Thank you…thank you…thank you.

**Ch. 13 The Heart’s Filthy Lesson**

Sarah felt a hand on her shoulder, then a gentle nudge.

“You awake?”

“Go back to sleep, Jareth,” she muttered, crankily rolling over and tugging the blankets over her head in a little down-covered cocoon.

“Should I ask why you’re dreaming of Gareth?” mumbled Angel, sounding for all the world like an old crone, her voice raspy with too much sleep after staying up too late.

“Mrphbfff,” snuffled Sarah, until Angel nudged her shoulder again.

“C’mon Sarah. It’s nearly 2. S’time to get up,” Angel said, punctuating her words with yawns.

Slowly Sarah pulled the covers from her head and groaned, squinting her eyes against the sun that crept past the heavy curtains across the window. “Mrrfffgmorning,” she said with a lazy yawn, her back arching as she stretched her arms above her head until her back gave off a loud series of cracks. From the floor she heard the sound of Angel shifting out from under her blankets.

“Fuck this shit…tonight _I_ get the bed,” Angel grumbled, then cracked her own neck with a vicious twist. “Ahh…better.”

When Sarah finally rolled onto her side and opened her eyes, she yelped in surprise to see Angel’s head propped up on her arms on the edge of the bed, her purple streaked hair fuzzy despite plaiting her hair before they turned in for the night.

“So…do you dream about Gareth often?” Angel asked with a wicked grin.

Groaning, Sarah flopped onto her back, covering her face with her hands, “Arrgh! Don’t you start that again!”

Smiling innocently, Angel hopped up and bounced into the bathroom, “Don’t blame me, Sarah – You’re the one who brought him up first.”

Sarah yawned and stretched again, wondering why she felt so tired despite the fact that they had gotten in a good ten hours of sleep, despite going to bed at three in the morning. Even with all that sleep she felt groggy, as if she had a restless night full of dreams, but she didn’t remember dreaming. _Did I really mention Jareth first thing?_ – she mused, frowning. _Why would I think of him?_ It didn’t make sense.

Shrugging she got up and tugged the covers back up the bed, her thoughts tumbling over themselves in her head. “Probably just the remnants of the hug from Jareth last night,” she muttered softly to herself, while her libido chimed in – _Or maybe the kiss. It may not have been on the lips, but the forehead counts!_

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Still in their pajamas, the two girls staggered into Sarah’s lounge ten minutes later to find a plate of fresh cinnamon buns and a thermos of hot chocolate on the coffee table. Rubbing her eyes, Sarah blinked, then moaned seeing that their mess from the night before had been tidied up – not even a single popcorn puff could be seen.

“Crap! Please tell me we turned the computer off before we went to bed,” she muttered, sinking onto the couch with a yawn.

With her mouth already stuffed with cinnamon bun, Angel frowned, “Wantmetolie?” she asked, around the bite, then swallowed with a gulp as she shut her eyes and smiled. “Seriously, that woman is a Goddess of Pastry.”

Sarah sighed, “Yeah, a Goddess who _may_ have seen what we were looking at online last night.”

Angel poured a mug of hot chocolate and handed it to Sarah, then forced a pastry into her hand. “If it were me, I’d be less worried about what the housekeeper thought of my viewing habits and more concerned about what the Master of the house thought.”

At the word Master, Sarah felt her cheeks burn and chose to hide it by taking a deep drink from her mug. Swallowing, she licked the chocolate form her lips and looked at Angel who was happily downing her second cinnamon bun. “Explain,” she demanded, while her stomach growled hungrily and flip-flopped anxiously at the same time.

“Simple really. He’s into media and stuff. It wouldn’t surprise me if he could track what you do on your computer,” Angel said matter-of-factly, while licking the icing from her fingertips.

“And you couldn’t have thought of this last night, before we spent hours cruising the web for porn?” Sarah groaned, feeling a flock of vultures begin to swoop around in her belly.

Shrugging, Angel leaned against a chair, sipping her hot chocolate. “To be honest, it didn’t occur to me until just now.”

Sarah sighed as she looked at the cinnamon bun, “Great, so now he probably thinks I’m some sexual deviate.”

Angel giggled, “Relax. I seriously doubt it would bother him. It isn’t like you’re underage or anything.”

“Yeah, but you are,” Sarah countered.

“Not according to my ID,” Angel chirped, eyeing Sarah’s cinnamon bun. “So, are you gonna eat that or just caress it like it was Rexy’s chest?” she asked, fluttering her eyelashes at Sarah.

“Arrrgh!” Sarah grumbled, tossing the bun at Angel who dissolved into laughter before taking a big bite from it.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

The rising sun cast a shimmering pink glow over the hills and valleys of ParAvon, reflecting upon the glittering crystal castle set above the city. Below the castle, the citizens of the city began their day, setting out their market stalls, stoking their fires, seeing to the animals. Breathing deep from his position sitting on the balcony balustrade, the king smiled, enjoying the scent of fresh baked bread drifting up from the city. _It’s going to be a beautiful day_ , he mused, leaning his head back against the shining crystal stones. _Pity I can’t take off and spend the day at the lake like a commoner._

Turning as he heard the door to his private lounge open, he smiled seeing his Elven valet Tristan enter. Tristan bowed briefly, then ushered in the kitchen staff bearing the breakfast trays.

“Good morning, your majesty,” Tristan said, giving the king a respectful nod, before starting to bustle about the room, tidying up. “Alistair says that the ceremonial court today should be short, as there are very few petioners. Of course, the Siren Queen has requested a private audience. I wouldn’t be surprised if her feud with the Harpy Queen is starting up again,” he added, then waved his hand, dismissing the kitchen staff.

“And here I was thinking of taking the day off and going fishing at L’vilan Lake,” the king said, chuckling at the horrified look on Tristan’s face.

“Sire?!” he gasped, blinking owlishly at the king, then looking sheepish as he registered the king’s laugh.

“You’re too uptight, Tristan,” the king boomed with a laugh, clapping Tristan on the shoulder before settling himself at the table and pouring a cup of tea. “Duty first…then if I can steal a few hours for the lake, I will.”

Nodding, Tristan entered the king’s closet to select his wardrobe for the day, until he was interrupted by a sharp rapping on the outer door. A moment later the door opened and the king’s private secretary Alistair stepped in, hastily shoving his spectacles up his nose and bowing, his naturally fuzzy white hair carefully pulled back into a tight plait to control it, the long plait hanging over his left shoulder and reaching nearly to his waist. “Please pardon the intrusion upon your breakfast, your majesty,” he said, his voice surprisingly deep for such a small, spritely looking man. “But the Goblin King just arrived in the ante-chamber of the throne room, requesting an urgent audience. If it were any other, I would have asked him to wait until royal court this afternoon, but….”

Waving his hand, the king shook his head, “No no… send him in.”

Alistair nodded and opened the door further. “You may enter, your majesty,” he said, stepping back as Jareth swept through the door, his boots sounding sharply against the stones of the floor.

The High King looked up, arching an eyebrow as he took in the Goblin King’s appearance. “I was hoping this might be a social call, but given your formal dress, I assume this is court business?”

“Not quite, Sire,” Jareth replied, bowing low before his King, before righting himself. Slowly he tugged his leather gloves off, tucking them into his belt in a show of respect before the High King, while the leather of his jacket creaked quietly with every movement. “I’m afraid this is family business, as well as court business.”

The king nodded, gesturing toward a chair next to him. “Sit, Goblin King and tell me what brings you here before the breakfast dishes have begun to cool.”

At that moment a tall, slender woman in a shimmering lavender gown entered the room through a hidden door by the fireplace, her silver hair piled upon her head and pinned in place with jeweled dragonfly clips. Seeing her, Jareth rose, his expression still fierce, while a flash of affection shone briefly in his eyes. “Madame. Please forgive me disturbing your breakfast.”

Her laugh was light and airy as she swooped in, kissing Jareth’s cheek, “Nonsense darling,” she cooed, then looked around. “Did you finally deign to bring my new grandchildren to visit?”

“Hush, Madame,” grumbled the High King. “The boy has come on official business, not for a social visit.”

Rolling her eyes, the woman moved toward her husband and kissed his cheek as well. “I can see that by his dress, Auberon dear. But he did say it was family business first and foremost,” she said, gracefully sitting upon the chair opposite Jareth. “Naturally, I assumed it might involve _his_ new family. _Our_ grandchildren.”

Jareth and Auberon both pursed their lips in irritation, looking nearly identical as they glared at the High Queen.

“Please Titania, let the boy say his piece… _then_ you can pester him about when we’ll get to meet his children,” Auberon said, giving his wife a teasing wink.

“Are you both quite finished?” snapped Jareth, peevishly. “This is actually quite serious and it does involve my wards…”

“Children,” his mother insisted, picking up a slice of fresh bread and spreading it with honey.

“They are _not_ my children,” Jareth ground out, then looked at Auberon and stood. “Sire, forgive me. Perhaps it would be best to address this during formal court.”

The High King shook his head, pointing at the recently vacated chair, “Sit, my boy…and that is an order,” he replied, then looked at his wife. “If our grandchildren are in danger, I’d like to know what it is.”

Looking contrite, Titania nodded. “Yes, Jareth…tell us what has brought you here in such a state. I promise, no more teasing.”

With a grave look upon his face, Jareth settled back into the chair, taking a deep breath before he began to speak. “It’s Rayvn. He showed up at the manor last night and attempted to bespell Sarah and her mortal friend. They resisted long enough for Ludo to alert me, but both girls were quite shaken up by the whole affair.”

“Are you sure he was trying to enchant them, Jareth?” asked his father, his crystal blue eyes narrowing as he considered this news. “His powers were bound, he should not be able to do that which you are accusing him of.”

Jareth frowned, “There is more, Father. He manipulated Sarah’s dreams, essentially torturing her in her sleep – and using me to do it.” Grimacing at the memory, he growled. “He had a figure who looked like me in her dream whipping her and then…then raping her,” he said, spitting out the last words as if they pained him just to say them.

Titania gasped, delicate fingers covering her mouth, as she gazed at Jareth, her pale purple eyes wide in concern. “Is the dear girl all right?”

“She is naturally exhausted from the interference in her dream, but due to staying up quite late last night with her friend, she believes her fatigue stems from that,” Jareth said, then looked at his father who was watching him with a pensive, but stern look. “And before you ask, Father… I was merely monitoring her dreams as is my right as the head of my family and as the Guardian of Dreams and Dreamers. She may be my ward, but she is also the Champion of the Labyrinth, I am duty bound to do what I can to protect her.”

Nodding silently, Auberon stroked the white beard upon his chin. “Indeed, that is your duty and right, my boy. I wonder how Rayvn has managed to circumvent the binding of his powers,” he mused, his tea cup now forgotten.

“You must bring the children here, Jareth. Rayvyn can’t enter the Crystal City, so they will be safe here,” Titania suggested, reaching out to grasp her husband’s hand. “We will be able to protect them and train them to join Fae society, while you see to our assets Above and your kingdom.”

Jareth shook his head, “I cannot do that, Madame. While the will and contract gave them into my care as their guardian, they are not my children by Fae law. Since Toby is under the age of majority in our society, I can bring him Underground at will, but by law, Sarah must agree to it – and I assure you, at this point, she is only beginning to believe me to be something other than a fairy tale villain. She would not be willing to return to the Underground, much less to be sequestered away in a kingdom and castle she is unfamiliar with, while being under the care and tutelage of people she does not know.”

“But we are family!” protested his mother, looking at her husband for support, then frowning as she found none.

Auberon shook his head, his expression mirroring his son’s. “Family we may be, my dear, but Jareth is quite right. Neither is legally his child. He cannot force Sarah to come, and it would be unfair to the girl to take her brother away from her at this point in time.” Tapping his chin thoughtfully, he then looked at Jareth. “Do you still plan to officially adopt Toby during the Yule Court?”

“I do,” Jareth nodded. “I have already mentioned this to Sarah and she has given her consent.”

“And the girl?” his father asked. “Will you adopt her as well?”

His parents watched as conflicting emotions flickered across their son’s face.

“Whether you adopt her or not, she will need to be presented to the Court at the Yule Ball,” said Titania, picking up her slice of bread again. “We’ll need time to approve any courting suits before the Ostara Festival.”

Auberon glanced at his wife, noting the devious twinkle in her eyes. _You are deliberately baiting the boy_ – he thought. Hearing his thought, Titania winked at him, then schooled her expression to one of innocent questioning.

At the mention of courting suits, Jareth’s jaw tightened, leaving Auberon his chance to assist in needling his son. “Well my boy, you really only have three options where Sarah is concerned, and all of them result in her being presented to the Court. Adopt her – then field suits for her courting. Don’t adopt her, and still field suits for her courting. Or get her to agree to you courting her and formally ‘mark’ her at the Yule Court.”

Jareth groaned at the meddling from his parents, “It isn’t that easy and you bloody well know it.”

His mother laughed softly while his father patted his shoulder. “I can only assume from the disheartened expression that you have designs on courting her yourself?”

“I am still considering the matter,” Jareth replied, an unreadable expression upon his face.

“Since you managed things so well with her the last time, it is probably best to take your time,” added his mother with an innocent bat of her eyelashes.

“I didn’t love her then,” Jareth grumped. “I was merely trying to stall for time until the last seconds ran out.”

His parents laughed outright at that, the tinkling of his mother’s laughter melding with the deep tenor of his father’s. “Don’t try to lie to your parents, boy,” his father boomed, while his mother still giggled like a young girl. “You were infatuated with her then. Now answer me honestly…do you have feelings for the girl?”

Sighing, Jareth’s shoulders slumped, “I honestly don’t know, Father. All I know is that the thought of anyone else courting her makes me want to lock her in an oubliette.”

Peering at him over her tea cup, his mother smiled fondly at him, then set her cup aside. “Jareth, you’re jealous. Now, while jealousy doesn’t necessarily mean you love the girl, it does mean you have feelings for her. Do you have any idea if she feels anything for you?”

Jareth closed his eyes, replaying the tender then hungry kiss from Sarah’s dream self, along with the clinging arms wrapped around his middle when Rayvn had been sent away. In his mind he heard her soft, sad muttering about him not loving her. Sighing, he opened his eyes. “She is confused in her thoughts and feelings where I am concerned – not that I blame her one bit.”

His mother nodded, giving him a quiet smile, “But she is becoming more comfortable around you, is she not?”

Jareth nodded, “Yes. She does not immediately assume that I have ulterior motives regarding her or her brother.”

Glancing at Auberon, Titania tilted her head, her eyes sparkling, “I think perhaps it is time for Sarah to meet the rest of the family. Perhaps your father and I can help read the girl and see what her feelings are.”

“Mother…no…” Jareth protested, only to be waved to silence by his father.

“Actually, despite your mother’s motives for amorous meddling, her idea has merit, my boy,” the High King said. “If Rayvn is sniffing around Sarah – no matter her status as ward, child, Champion or Queen-to-be, we need to make sure the shields and security measures on the girl and manor are sufficient to protect her – and the heir.”

Sighing, Jareth felt his stomach drop, knowing there would be no way out of this now. It would happen whether he liked it or not. Resigned, he picked up the tea cup in front of him, peering into the mahogany liquid as if looking for a way to avoid what appeared to be inevitable.

“Then it’s settled,” Titania chirped with a triumphant smile, while stabbing a berry with the golden tines of her fork. “Your father and I shall come visit next weekend.”

“Weekend?!” wheezed Jareth, choking on a sip of his tea, then devolving into a coughing fit.

“Of course dear,” his mother continued, as if the answer was obvious. “Why come only for dinner when a weekend with my grandchildren would be much more illuminating.”

Hearing Jareth’s resigned groan, Auberon chuckled. “Remember, my boy – it could always be worse.” Jareth looked up at him, a questioning look in his eyes. “She could have decided we’d stay until Samhain.”

Jareth cringed as his mother’s face lit up at that, “A weekend!” he said, cutting her off before she could change her mind. “A weekend will be just fine.”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

The grounds of the Tylluan Manor echoed with the sound of childish laughter, as the afternoon sun shone overhead, shimmering against the crystal in the middle of the garden labyrinth. In and out of the topiary passages, Angel, Toby and Sarah ran, playing a game of tag, the likes of which the old manor had never seen. For the last two hours they had been stalking each other through the maze, shooting each other with squirt guns then darting away. Being the only one to know how to reach the center, it was Sarah’s job to protect her turf, while the other two worked together to try to reach the center.

Hearing the whirring of helicopter blades nearing the manor the three of them stopped where they were, peering skyward as the Rex Industries helicopter glided over the property. Squealing happily, Toby began to make his way out of the maze, calling for Sarah when he found himself in a small circular dead end.

“Sarah!! I’m stuck…get me out! Gareth is here!” he shouted, sitting down to wait for Sarah as she had told him to do whenever he needed help.

Sarah quickly made her way toward where Toby was calling from, running into Angel on her way, the two girls linking arms as they turned down the passages toward the stuck little boy.

“I thought Rexy wasn’t coming back until tomorrow,” Angel grinned, grabbing Toby’s hand when they found him.

“I don’t know. I guess his plans changed,” Sarah shrugged, taking Toby’s other hand and leading the other two along the short cut out of the labyrinth.

“Come on Sarah,” Toby muttered, pulling against his sister’s hand. “Let’s go faster! I wanna see if he brought me a toy.”

Sarah rolled her eyes, “He has spoiled you with enough toys in your room. Don’t go expecting him to be like Dad and bring you a treat every time he comes home from travelling.”

Toby pouted at that, still trying to get the girls to walk faster. When they walked out of the arched entry to the garden labyrinth, they could see the helicopter just touching down on the pad in the clearing behind the large outbuilding. Waving and yelling, Toby took off running toward the helicopter, as the blades started to splutter and slow. The round door of the helicopter opened and Jareth stepped out, looking like he had just come from a business meeting, his black suit crisp and neatly lined with fine grey pinstripes. He reached down and took Toby’s hand, smiling and greeting the boy, then looking up at Sarah and Angel. Sarah felt her cheeks grow warm at the smile he gave them, a smile she was sure extended to his eyes, even though they were hidden behind dark sunglasses. Swallowing heavily, as if that would drown the butterflies fluttering madly in her belly, she and Angel walked toward them, meeting the pair of them halfway to the back entrance of the manor.

“Did you bring me anything?” asked Toby, bouncing along beside Gareth.

“Toby!” Sarah scolded, frowning at her little brother. “Gareth has done so much for us, don’t go begging for treats. It’s rude!”

Gareth smiled and leaned down, scooping Toby up, then settling the small boy on his hip. “Well, have you been a good boy for Sarah and Mrs. Brown while I was away?” he asked, carrying the boy toward the stairs leading to the house, with the girls following along behind.

“Yes!” came the emphatic reply from Toby.

Pausing at the door, Gareth turned around, his voice dropping to a quiet growl as he gave Sarah a sultry smile, “And have you girls been good too?”

Sarah and Angel blushed crimson, with Angel giggling a bit and biting her lip, while Sarah tried to quell the butterflies in her stomach. Finally Sarah managed to squeak, “Yes.”

“Well, then… “ Gareth replied, opening the door and walking into the house. “I have treats for everyone.” Sitting Toby on his feet again, he patted the boy’s head. “Go tell Mrs. Brown that I’m home and that we’d like afternoon tea in the sun room, my boy.”

Toby bobbed his head and raced off toward the kitchen. “Mrs. Brown! Gareth’s home! And he brought presents!” he shouted as he ran.

Gareth turned to the girls and smiled. “I’m going to go change and make a few calls, I will see the three of you in the sunroom in fifteen minutes,” he said, nodding at Angel, then letting his eyes linger on Sarah, pleased to see the warm flush upon her cheeks, accompanied by a scent he did not remember coming from her before – happiness.

Fifteen minutes later he wandered into the sunroom, having changed out of his suit in favor of a pair of well-worn jeans, with a black t-shirt tightly hugging his chest. Entering the room, he was surprised to see Toby bouncing around Mrs. Brown while she set out a tray of cookies and lemonade, with no Sarah or Angel in sight. Seeing Gareth, Toby grinned and raced to him, hugging him around the waist.

“Can I have my present now?” he begged, looking up at Gareth with open adoration.

Smiling at the boy, Gareth patted his head. “Once your sister gets here, I’ll give you your present. Now you may go get a cookie,” he said, chuckling as Toby bounced back to the coffee table and grabbed a cookie from the tray. Gareth settled into his usual chair, laughing quietly when Toby climbed up onto his lap and began telling him about his week. While listening to Toby’s accounting of his week, Gareth kept one eye upon the clock over the mantel – she was late. Again.

Five minutes later, Sarah and Angel came giggling down the hall. Gareth raised his head, his pale eyes narrowed on Sarah as the two girls entered the room. “You are late, Sarah,” he said, his tone firm, but not unkind.

Sarah had the good grace to look sheepish, her cheeks stained pink both from rushing down the stairs to the sunroom, but judging from the scent of her, embarrassment as well. “Sorry, Jar…Gareth,” she said, looking momentarily panicked at her near slip-up with his name. “We had been running around the labyrinth all afternoon and really needed to freshen up.”

“Yeah…it’s my fault we’re late,” Angel piped up, sinking into a corner of the sofa, while Sarah settled into the other corner of the same sofa. “I took too long in the shower.”

Looking the girls over, Gareth noted that they both had apparently showered, their faces freshly scrubbed and their hair still damp. The make-up free look on Sarah’s face reminded him of the innocent way she looked when she ran the Labyrinth. Shaking his head slightly to chase away those thoughts, he smiled at them. “I appreciate the care to your appearance, although as Sarah will no doubt tell you, I do prefer her to be on time, even for casual appointments.”

Both girls looked sheepish at his gentle chiding, mumbling, “Sorry, Sir.”

Inwardly surprised at the way they addressed him, Gareth nodded at the tray of cookies. “Go on then, get a cookie and a drink so I can dole out the presents before Toby spontaneously combusts from the excitement.”

Sarah blushed, giving him a bashful smile as she leaned over and grabbed two cookies, handing one of them to Angel, while Toby bounced on Gareth’s lap. _Gods…how can he look so good in just jeans and a shirt_ – she wondered. _Imagine how he’d look without them_ – moaned her libido. Trying to drown out the voices in her head, Sarah bit savagely into a cookie, unsure if she’d be able to swallow it given the way her stomach was fluttering and rolling.

Nudging the small boy from his lap, Gareth pointed him toward the hearth and a large blue box that Sarah would swear hadn’t been there when they entered the room.

“There you go, Toby lad. Go get it,” Gareth said, watching the small boy with an indulgent smile, as Toby raced for the box and tore the lid off it.

“Oh wow! Sarah look at it!” Toby squealed, pulling out a child sized knight’s helmet, followed by a chest plate and a wooden sword.

Pleased with Toby’s reaction, Gareth noted the concern on Sarah’s face. “No playing with it in the house, Toby. I’ll be having someone come in to train you properly, so you don’t hurt yourself or others.”

Angel grinned but looked in confusion at Gareth, “Seriously? You’re going to have him trained in sword and shield combat?”

Sarah saw a sly look pass through Gareth’s eyes as he smiled at Angel and nodded, “As a matter of fact yes, I am. Toby will be trained in classical combat styles, as is fitting of someone in his position.”

“Gee…I didn’t figure media moguls got into too many sword fights these days,” muttered Angel into her cookie, while Sarah bit back a giggle.

“You’d be surprised how vicious some of the meetings I attend can be, _Angelique_ ,” Gareth replied, his pale eyes saying more than the mortal girl understood. Glancing at the look of secretive amusement on Sarah’s face, he could see that she understood his meaning. “Now then, I believe I promised you girls a present too.”

Looking at him, Angel blinked in surprise, while Sarah felt the butterflies swooping in her stomach again, treating Gareth to a tantalizing sensation of nervousness and anticipation as he opened the familial link briefly. Rising from his chair, he picked up two small jewelry boxes from the top of the piano and handed one to each of the girls.

“I thought you might like these,” he said, settling back in his chair and watching them. Both girls stared a moment at their boxes, before looking at each other, then Gareth. Seeing their hesitation he chuckled, “Well…if you’d like me to take them back…”

“No…no…” the girls mumbled in unison, opening their boxes.

Inside each box was a fine golden chain, with a small crystal orb hanging from a delicate fitting. Sarah’s crystal was a lovely pale pink, while Angel’s was light purple. Gareth smiled as he watched the crystals glow subtly in his presence. Formed from a single one of his crystals bearing a powerful protection spell, the necklaces were charmed so that while ever the girls wore them, should they come into contact with dark Fae or spells meant to disorient and harm them, the necklace would deflect them and notify Jareth.  He’d even charmed them so that the girls would be disinclined to remove them once they were put on. Jareth had been creating protection spells of various types since he was Toby’s age, but these were the spell he was most proud of.

“I…don’t know what to say,” Angel gasped, lightly caressing the lavender crystal with her fingertip. “I mean…I’m not even family or anything. I’m just… no one. A nobody.”

“I believe thank you, is customary in polite circles,” Gareth quipped with a slight smirk, as Angel turned crimson and nodded frantically. “And believe me, Angel… you are hardly a ‘nobody’.”

“Thank you…really…it’s…wow,” she mumbled.

Sarah ran her finger along the thin chain, then over the crystal, before looking up and giving him a warm, open smile, “It’s beautiful, Gareth. Thank you.”

Sweeping toward her, Gareth plucked the necklace out of the box, “Let me help you.”

Feeling a strange heat run through her, Sarah lifted her hair up, trembling slightly as Jareth’s fingertips grazed the back of her neck. He draped the chain around her neck, then fastened it, leaving the delicate crystal hanging just below the base of her neck. As it touched her skin, it seemed to warm up, matching her own body temperature.

While he helped Sarah with her necklace, Angel slipped hers on. “Wow…this will _really_ get Marcy’s goat come Monday,” she grinned at Sarah.

Sarah laughed, her fingers coming up to caress the pink crystal once more, as her eyes sought Jareth’s. He could feel the warmth emanating from her, even without probing the familial link or taking in her scent.

 _At this rate, she will be ready for marking by the Yule_ _Court_ – he thought, returning her smile, just as Toby ran up, grabbing his hand.

“Please…can we go out and play with my sword now? Sarah can be the princess we have to rescue,” he said, tugging at Gareth’s hand.

“Oi! I can rescue myself, thank you very much,” Sarah protested, while Angel giggled.

“Indeed you can, Sarah dear,” Gareth said, his eyes twinkling darkly at her, making her squirm in her chair. Turning his attention back to Toby, Gareth smiled, “Well come on then, we can all go play in the garden for a bit. Then I’ll take the three of you into town for pizza,” he added, giving the girls a teasing grin. “Unless you two have had enough of pizza for one weekend.”

Tossing her head, Sarah flipped her hair over her shoulder and gave Gareth a challenging grin, “We’re teenagers. There is no such thing as enough pizza.”

Angel grabbed Toby’s helm and plopped it down on his head, then grabbed his sword and took off out of the room with Toby in pursuit, yelling something that sounded suspiciously like ‘Have at thee, wily cur!’ Chuckling, Sarah scooped up Toby’s breastplate and went to follow them. As she moved past Jareth, a warm hand caught her waist, pulling her back until her back was almost flush with his chest. Shivering at the heat pouring from him, she felt as if she might dissolve into a pile of ash when he purred in her ear, his breath hot against the side of her neck, “Five minutes late… _again_ , Precious. What _am_ I going to do with you?”

Feeling her cheeks flush, Sarah bit her lip as he chuckled softly, then released his grip on her hip. Once he freed her, she rushed from the room, trying desperately to ignore the flashes of him spanking her that came unbidden to her mind. She could still hear him laughing quietly as he followed her down the hall, the sound a low, sensual purr that made her blood burn through her and her heart race.

 _Oh fuck…this is not good_ – she moaned to herself as she escaped out the door onto the garden terrace.

 _On the contrary, I think he’d be very good_ – squealed her libido.

 _I think that’s what you are afraid of_ – countered her inner-self, sounding entirely too smug about the whole thing.

Sarah really hated it when they were right.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Jareth didn’t move a muscle as the clock on his dresser sounded the final peal of midnight. A quiet clearing of the throat behind him finally caused him to shift his attention from the moon over the garden, back to the small man waiting in the doorway of his private suite in the manor. Mr. Foster bowed slightly as Jareth turned and walked into the lounge. “Have a seat, Foster. We have some business to discuss,” he said, his words quiet and authoritative.

Mr. Foster nodded and sat in a chair, laying his briefcase on the coffee table as he wiped his glasses clean with a handkerchief, then stuffed it back into his jacket pocket. The room was silent save for the quiet footsteps of Jareth, his bare feet making very little sound upon the plush Persian carpet.

“Begging your pardon, Your Majesty, but it is rather late for business…” Mr. Foster began, only to be silenced with a hard look from the Goblin King, his glamour falling away to reveal him in his full Fae countenance, erect and angular, his crystal blue eyes as sharp as his owl form’s.  Lowering his head, the glamour upon Mr. Foster also vanished, revealing a small fox goblin perched upon the edge of the chair, his short legs dangling above the floor. Coughing quietly, he adjusted the feathered cap that he wore, and gazed up at the Goblin King with his one good eye, the other covered by a black leather eye patch. “I assume, given the hour, that the matter at hand is of some grave importance, Sire?”

“Indeed it is, Didymus,” Jareth drawled, his pale eyes taking on a steely gleam. “It is about the protection of our Lady.”

Sir Didymus blinked, his lip curling to reveal his teeth as he snarled. “What cur seeks to harm our Lady?”

“Ravyn came by the manor last night seeking to speak with me and broke laws with Sarah and her mortal friend, even to the point of manipulating Sarah’s dreams,” Jareth hissed, his eyes flashing dangerously within the angry visage that enveloped his face. “Simply, I want you to find out what he is up to. Father says his powers were bound when he was banished Above, but he has clearly found a way around that.”

Frowning, Didymus tugged at the silvery fur around his muzzle, “Could the Council not just imprison the cur?”

The Goblin King growled, shaking his head as he flopped into his favourite chair, throwing his leg over the arm. “Would that it were that simple, old man,” he grumbled, his crop appearing in his hand. Absently he tapped his calf with it, while staring at the painting of the Labyrinth above the mantle – staring, yet not seeing it. “Father says that it is my word against Rayvn’s, since I witnessed him tampering with her dream and she does not know that either of us where there. In order to bring the new charges, I’d have to admit to Sarah that I have taken to monitoring her dreams for his interference,” Jareth said, then sighed, the hard look in his eyes fading, as he glanced back at his trusted advisor. “You know Sarah, Didymus. I can’t risk her losing her trust in me…not now.”

Silently Didymus nodded. He understood the King’s dilemma. Sarah was only now coming to trust him, but the trust was fragile – any betrayal, no matter the reason behind it, could spell disaster, wrecking all the good will that had been created.

“So, I want you to track Rayvn’s movements here Above. Find out what he has been up to and see if you can work out how he has managed to circumvent the binding to restore his power,” Jareth said, still toying with the crop before sitting up in his chair and leaning forward, his arms propped on his knees. “I need to know whether his interest in Sarah was purposeful or accidental. Did he know she was here or not?”

Didymus nodded, his good eye glistening sharply. “As you wish, Sire. I will do what I can to protect our Lady. I am assuming you will handle her protection in other ways?”

At that Jareth’s lips curled in a sly smile, “Don’t worry about Sarah, Didymus…I have her protection, well in hand – so to speak.”

Seeing the wicked gleam in his King’s eyes, Didymus knew better than to question his methods. Sarah would be safe from Rayvyn while with the Goblin King. Of course, that wasn’t to say Sarah would be safe from the Goblin King himself.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

An hour later Sir Didymus departed, leaving the Goblin King to retire to his bed. Dousing the lights in his lounge, he stood in the moonlit window, the cool light making his bare chest seem to shimmer briefly. With a slow, deep breath he shut his eyes, casting out his magic to test the shields he had placed upon the manor. He could feel the pulsing of the Labyrinth through the very land itself, adding further protection for the one it already saw as its Queen – something it had made clear to Jareth the minute Sarah set foot in his castle during her run.

The Labyrinth let him know, quite clearly as it turned out, that it would allow no other Queen to rule. And he’d tried…oh how he’d tried to get it to accept another, to no avail. In fact, the Labyrinth had essentially laughed at him. Any female who set foot in the Labyrinth with the thought of passing the Queen’s Challenge, was met with defeat – often within the first three hours. The blasted Labyrinth wouldn’t even let them succeed past the first two walls. One managed to make it to the third wall and into the Wise Man’s garden, before she ended up in an oubliette and wasn’t found for a month – at which point she barely knew her own name.

Opening his eyes again, Jareth pulled his magic back into himself. All was as it should be, and his family was safe for the night. He allowed himself to lower the barriers, feeling gingerly for the threads that bound him to Sarah and Toby. As was expected, the boy was lost in an exhausted slumber, his heartbeat synced to Jareth’s own in a slow, steady rhythm. With a grin, Jareth turned and made his way into his bedroom. He felt sure that if he were to peek into Toby’s dreams, he would find the lad playing at being a brave knight.

Turning off the last remaining light, Jareth reclined on his bed, tucking a pillow under his head, as he twirled his fingers and gazed upon the crystal that balanced upon them. He could see Sarah and Angel, both tucked up in Sarah’s large bed, their crystal necklaces faintly glowing as they should – the glow signaling the strength of their protection. Knowing of Rayvn’s predilection for interfering in the dreams of his victims, Jareth made sure the spell was more potent when the wearer was asleep.

His lips pursed as he watched the girls sleep, their breathing slow and deep. _It couldn’t hurt to check her dreams, just to be sure the protection spell is working properly_ – offered his inner-self, attempting to sound practical, despite the clearly self-serving suggestion.

As far as Jareth was concerned, that was as good a reason as any to have a peek. He turned the crystal and smiled to himself as the purple haze shifted, showing his study, with himself sitting on the couch near the hearth. The clock upon the mantle chimed the stroke of 9, when Sarah stepped through the door. The dream Jareth’s eyes narrowed upon the girl. “That is cutting it a bit close, Precious. And you are already in trouble,” he said, as Sarah blushed.

“Sorry …Jareth,” she murmured, fidgeting slightly and looking at the floor rather than at him.

“You deliberately disobeyed me by going into town _and_ you were late yesterday, plus nearly being late now. I believe that will be two swats for every minute you were late, and an additional 5 for going into town,” he heard himself say, while Sarah gasped, her eyes wide with a mixture of anticipation and shock.

“That’s fifteen! You only gave me three last time!” she protested, her face pulling into a petulant frown.

Jareth merely gave her a smug smile. “Yes, I was being generous. Being late is something I abhor, so the sooner you learn that the better. Perhaps you will finally get the message,” he said. Then without warning he reached out, grabbing her and pulling her bodily over his lap, her stomach resting over his thighs. Shifting his right thigh further to the right, he smirked as the movement lifted her ass just enough to offer him a better target, while throwing her off balance enough that she would be unable to fight him easily. “Place your hands on the floor and count. If you lose count, we start over,” he purred, then quickly swatted her twice, once upon each cheek.

He could feel the burn of the smack in the palm of his hand, knowing that the thin skirt she wore would do little to protect her. Sarah squeaked in surprise at the swats, but by the fourth he felt a rush of embarrassment and happiness through the familial link, along with the sweet scent of arousal.

Smiling, Jareth spun the crystal across his fingertips and set it adrift in the air above his bed. “Oh my Precious thing,” he chuckled softly, his hand lightly stroking his chest as he thought over what he had seen. As much as he would like to watch the dream to its conclusion and see just how ‘involved’ her dreams might be, it was enough for now to know that she was safe in her dreams. Indeed, the only person likely to cause her ‘harm’ in her dreams tonight was the dream representation of himself that _she_ had created. And the real Jareth couldn’t fault her creation, after all the dream Jareth was doing exactly what the real Jareth would like to do – that and much more. He was quite amused that she claimed her dreams were centered around kissing him. Judging by that dream, either her dreams were changing or she was lying. Either way, he had some decisions to make regarding her next punishment.

As her King and guardian, it was his duty to punish her in such a way that she would learn the lesson she needed to learn. However, as a male who wished to court and hopefully claim her, there were more enjoyable ways of ‘punishing’ her which she was clearly beginning to take an interest in. It would not do to have her expect punishments she actually enjoyed, as the lessons would not be remembered. At the same time, he rather liked the idea of her enjoying such play.

“This must be approached carefully,” he mused to himself in the dark. “Perhaps a little ‘funishment’ would be the best course of action.”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

At 8:45 Sunday evening, Sarah opened to outer door to her rooms, nibbling her lip as she started to head down the hall toward the stairs, and her eventual destination – Jareth’s study. As she passed Toby’s bedroom, she paused, hearing a voice, the sound low and relaxing. “What the Hell?” she murmured, confused, since Toby went to bed at 8 every night, with her tucking him in just as she did at home. Frowning she leaned close to the door, nudging it open just a bit so she could peek in. The scene she found made her chest clench and a warmth spread through her. Jareth was sitting on the pirate bed with Toby, his back against the wall at the head. He had Toby tucked under his arm and was singing a quiet song to the sleeping boy.

Having heard her quiet gasp, Jareth looked up, smiling at her and tapping his finger against his lips telling her to be quiet. Gently he laid the little boy down in the bed and covered him over, never stopping the quiet singing, even as he climbed down the little rope ladder and walked toward the door. Once he was in the hall, he pulled the door closed and smiled at Sarah.

“Before you accusing me of attempting to steal the child,” Jareth began with a teasing smile. “I felt the boy was being drawn into a nightmare and thought I would help him ease through it quickly.”

Reaching up, Sarah tucked her hair behind her ear and smiled quietly at him, looking sheepish. “I wasn’t going to accuse you of anything, Jareth. You’re his guardian… _our_ guardian, so you it would be a bit silly to steal someone you already have power over,” she said, choosing her words carefully.

The two of them walked slowly toward the main stairwell in amicable silence. As they reached the top and began their descent, Sarah gave him a curious look, “Of course, I thought there was a Fae law against interfering in the dreams of mortals – even for the Guardian of Dreams and Dreamers.”

Jareth felt his heart swell with pride that she not only remembered his position, but also the laws. “There is, Precious, but I didn’t enter his dream. I merely provided a bit of external encouragement to transform the dream into something happier. Toby did all of the work.”

Nodding a bit, her chestnut hair fell forward veiling her face. When she peered up at him next, he could see the conflicting thoughts warring within her, before she smiled, her hand coming up to lightly caress the pale pink crystal hanging around her neck.

“Thanks…for looking out for him. Looking out for both of us even,” she murmured, then quickly looked away to find that they were standing outside his study door and the clock had started to chime.

Reaching toward her, Jareth gently slid the fall of hair back behind her ear. “Someday I hope you come to understand that in my way, I was and _will_ always look out for both of you,” he murmured quietly, his pale eyes shining despite the dim light in the hall.

For a flickering instant, Sarah caught herself wondering if he was going to kiss her, his face slowly drifting closer to hers, only to stop as the ninth chime sounded. At that sound his lips twisted in a seductive smirk, “Tsk, tsk Sarah,” he purred. “You’re _late_. Again.”

“But…” she started to protest, his smirk only growing broader as she was unable to stop the words that came tumbling out. “That’s not fair.”

Without missing a beat, he stepped closer, his eyes flashing with dark amusement at her words. He breathed softly, the warmth caressing her lips, as his lips hovered near them. “Oh really….I wonder what your basis for comparison is,” he drawled, his expression and tone identical to what he used when he had her cornered in the tunnels under the Wise Man’s garden.

Jareth watched the memory play out over her lovely face, her pulse fluttering frantically in her throat from the closeness of his body. Her breathing became shallow, while her lips fell partly open, as if waiting to be kissed. Smirking, he stepped back, noting the brief look of disappointment that crossed her face. “I believe we have things to account for, Precious. It is time,” he said, waving his hand at the heavy study door, which opened silently.

Sarah was torn behind being disappointed that he didn’t kiss her, angry that he didn’t kiss her and angry at the unfairness at being called out for being late when she was clearly there on time, but _he_ had held her up.

“Well…you didn’t play fair,” she grumbled as she walked into the study. “I was obviously here on time because I was with you. It is _your_ fault that I wasn’t in the room by the stroke of nine…”

 _You and your sexy body practically pinning me against the wall_ – offered her inner-self.

 _You and your luscious bod replaying the scene from the tunnels_ – purred her libido with a sultry wiggle.

“You…you… tried to distract me. Just like you did in the Labyrinth,” she continued, crossing her arms over her chest and flopping into a chair with a petulant frown.

At this, Jareth burst out laughing, shutting the study door behind him and locking it.

“Now now, Sarah, you can’t blame me for distracting you. I did nothing but speak to you. If you were distracted that is on you,” he chuckled, crossing the room to sit in his usual chair. “I see you didn’t bring your punishment book tonight,” he said, nodding at her empty hands. At that Sarah slouched down further in her chair, the look on her face reminding him why it was so fun to tease her. “Perhaps I should add that to the list of infractions you are racking up, and in such a short period of time even.”

Seeing her open her mouth to protest further, he shook his head, “Shush, Precious. I’m teasing on that score and on you being late tonight.”

The anger faded slightly from her expression as that admission sunk in.

“Oh,” she mumbled quietly, her folded arms sagging a bit until he continued.

“However, we will still be addressing your deliberate flouting of my rule about not going into town, and the fact that you were late to afternoon tea with me yesterday,” he said, his tone firm, but still carrying the seductive teasing quality.

Her pout deepened at that.

“Don’t pout so, Precious. You know my rules and what I expect of you. You also know that if you disobey, you will receive the punishment you deserve until you learn the lesson,” he replied, amused by her reaction.

“I went for pizza, it isn’t that big of a deal,” Sarah muttered, her green eyes flashing defiantly at him.

His own expression darkened at that, the intensity of his gaze pinning her in her chair. “Oh really? And what if Rayvn had run into you in town? What then? Do you think he would have stopped at merely tasting you as he did here? Shall I describe for you in great detail the crimes for which he was banished Above in the first place,” he hissed, his tone dropping low and hard.

Swallowing, Sarah shook her head, a flash of fear shining in her eyes. “No…” she mumbled.

“No… _what_?” he demanded.

He felt the sudden burst of desire from her and was inwardly surprised. Breathing slowly, he took his time teasing out the different emotions that twined themselves together. Desire. A hint of fear. And a smattering of stubbornness.

 _Delicious –_ he mused, fighting to keep his expression strict. _So my Sarah likes it when I am both teasing and_ _stern._

“I’m waiting, Sarah,” he added, his eyes narrowing further at her.

“No…Sir,” she finally muttered, her words accompanied by an increase in the pheromone signature from her.

Jareth’s eyes darkened at her use of the honorific, intrigued by her choice of ‘Sir’ instead of merely ‘Jareth’, since either was acceptable. She may be new to the idea of dominance and discipline, but whether she understood or not, she was rapidly developing a taste for it.

 _Well let’s see how she likes what I plan to throw at her tonight_ – he chuckled to himself, then nodded at her. “That’s better, Precious. Remember, disobeying me will earn you punishment, but I can be _very_ generous with rewards for good behavior,” he said, his tone dipping into a sultry purr at the end, while his words earned their own reward from the heightened scent of desire and anticipation from Sarah.

Snapping his fingers, her book appeared on the coffee table between them, along with the owl quill pen. Sarah cringed slightly, knowing what was coming next. She watched as Jareth leaned forward and nodded to her. “It’s time, Precious,” he said, his tone quiet and no longer teasing, neither was it unkind. She bit her lip when the small silver knife appeared in his hand, then flinched as he drew the sharp blade across his palm, letting the crimson drops collect into a shallow pool in his cupped palm.

“I hate it that you do that,” she muttered, picking up the quill pen and hesitating before she dipped it barely into the scarlet drops. “Why can’t I just use proper ink?”

Jareth smiled quietly at her, opening the book to a fresh page and tapping it with a long finger. “This is just the way it is done, Sarah mine. As a way of reminding you that everything you do has consequences for others.”

She sighed as she leaned over the book and began to write down her infractions and the reasoning.

  1. _Went into town for pizza, despite being told not to go into town while Jareth was not in residence: Wanted to have fun with my friend and didn’t think it would hurt anything._
  2. _Was 5 minutes late for afternoon tea: It took Angel and I longer to shower than we thought._



Turning the book so he could read it, Jareth nodded quietly, a finger of his right hand lightly caressing the wound on his left palm. He heard Sarah gasp as the cut healed before her eyes, the drops of blood fading away to leave no evidence upon his palm. Then he began to write as he spoke.

“For being where you were told not to be, your punishment is that _I_ will take you to school and pick you up each day for the next week, just as I would a small child. If you act like a child, you get treated like one,” he said. “As for being late, it is a less serious offense since it was caused by someone other than yourself, although royalty should always be punctual when meeting with other royalty. So I will give you a choice of punishment.” 

Jareth sat back in his chair, the quill disappearing from his fingers, as the slipper appeared on the coffee table alongside an hour glass. 

“You can choose between ten swats with the slipper…” he said, his voice firm. He smiled as he watched her eyes widen at his words, the telltale scent of arousal intensifying, along with the slightly floral scent of embarrassment. “Alternately, you can choose to spend five minutes standing in the corner. Or, as a final option you can choose to have six swats with the slipper and stand in the corner for 3 minutes.” 

He couldn’t help but smile at the look of confusion that crossed her face. “Make no mistake, Sarah, standing in the corner will be punishment enough. Believe me,” he chuckled with a sly smirk. “Things are not always as they seem.”

Her jade eyes narrowed while she considered the options he had given her. When he mentioned spanking her, she felt her cheeks flush hotly as flashes from her dream about his study took over her mind. Her libido went into spasms of delight at the very idea, while her inner-self was surprisingly quiet about it 

  _I can’t choose the spanking, what sort of girl chooses spanking over standing in a corner?_ _A freak…that’s who_  – she thought to herself, as her libido threw a tantrum at the thought of not getting spanked. 

 _The Jareth in our dream said he’d never laugh at you for_ _that_ – countered her inner-mind.

Her face pinched as she growled to herself, _That was dream Jareth. This is real Jareth. They aren’t the same._

 _Are you so sure about that?_ Mused her libido, while her inner-self nodded sagely. 

While the debate raged on inside her head, she also wondered just how bad standing in the corner could possibly be. After all, it was just a corner. She might feel a bit silly about it, but that was all. Still, this was Jareth she was dealing with, if he offered it as a simple out, then chances are good it was anything but simple and straight-forward. 

Jareth tilted his head, watching as Sarah’s inner turmoil played out across her face. Lowering his shields the smallest bit he could, he sipped at her emotions through the link, amused at the jumble of arousal, desire, confusion and embarrassment. It was at moments like this that he really wished that he had the ability to read minds rather than dreams. He knew she was fighting herself and the desire to choose the spanking, he only wondered if she would have the bravery to choose what she really wanted.

“Um… I pick the last option,” she finally said, looking at her hands as they twisted in her lap. 

Smiling, Jareth nodded, inwardly surprised by her choice. He had expected her to take the corner time, assuming it would be the easiest option – at least on the surface.

“Then let us begin,” he said, rising from his chair and picking up the slipper. Waving his hand, the chair in front of his desk slid into the middle of the room. “Bend over and place your hands on the seat of the chair,” he ordered her, his tone quiet and firm. 

Sarah felt the butterflies swoop through her stomach again as her cheeks flushed hotly. For a long moment she stayed seated in her chair, then finally managed to force her legs to obey her and stood. Gulping she moved to stand in front of the chair, then bent over and laid her palms flat on the. As she walked past him, Jareth could smell the arousal, nervousness and anticipation wafting from her every pore. His lips twisted in a dark smile when she willingly bent over the chair, presenting her lovely bum to him. He chuckled seeing the heavy denim covering the softly rounded globes. While heavier materials might dull the sting a bit, there were ways and means around that. His hand itched to reach out and caress the curve of her bum, instead forming a tight fist at his side, as he thought about the night he would relieve her of the little bit of protection the denim might provide.

“Five swats. You will ask for them, and count them. If you falter we start over,” he said, his tone low and hard, while he reveled in the sudden increase in arousal upon the air. “Any questions, Precious?”

Sarah swallowed hard and shook her head. 

At that Jareth swatted her bum sharply with the leather sole of the slipper, the quick sting making her gasp and rise up a bit, before his hand spread across the middle of her back, pushing her gently but firmly back into position. “Answer properly, Sarah and remember to stay in position – I have no qualms about binding you in place if I need to,” he warned, holding her down a moment longer than he needed to, before removing his hand.

“Yes…Sir,” Sarah whispered, a shiver running down her spine at the feel of his fingers lightly grazing along her spine when he pulled his hand away. 

“Good,” Jareth said, straightening a bit as he adjusted his grip on the slipper. “We’ll begin. Ask for your punishment, Sarah.” 

She was quiet for a moment, then mumbled, “Please…  will you punish me?” 

“For what?” he demanded, his hand once more resting lightly on her back, smiling at the way she trembled under his fingers.

“For disobeying you and going into town,” she murmurred, her voice taking on a breathy quality that made her cringe, all the while her stomach twisted and churned. “And for being late.” 

The first punishment swat was sharp, the sound seeming overly loud as it echoed briefly in the room. Sarah gasped again, surprised by the swat and the heated sting that burned her bum, “One, Sir.” 

Jareth brought the slipper down a bit harder on the second swat, fairly purring at the way Sarah sucked in a deep breath, and trembled. In drawing the slipper away, he let it drag slowly over the fabric covered curve, smiling at the way she shivered from head to toe. Whether she wanted to admit it to herself or not, her body was betraying her – she was enjoying this.

“Two, Sir…” Sarah murmured, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes upon her upturned bum.

By the third swat, Sarah was squirming , her breathing speeding up. The swats were harder than the first time he spanked her, each one firm enough to sting and burn, before settling down to a heated throbbing sensation.

Gulping again, Sarah tried in vain to moisten her now dry throat as she rasped, “Three.”

The fourth stroke made her squeak, the force of it rocking her forward toward the chair.  Despite the burning throb where the slipper struck her, Sarah could feel a warm drip tease between her thighs, the sensation making her squirm more.

“Four,” she whispered, her lips and mouth dry from panting. She shut her eyes, a slow tremor working through her.

For his part, Jareth knew the effect the spanking was having on her, as he could feel and smell the buzz of pleasure, embarrassment and desire, around her.  The feel of her emotions and scent of her arousal forced him to tightly reign in his natural impulse to caress the warm globes between swats, his hand itching to lightly stroke her, despite the denim that covered her flesh.

The fifth swat landed harder still, making Sarah jump, as a startled moan slid from her lips. Hanging her head, she sucked in deep breaths, the sound doing little to quench the fire that was eating at Jareth while he monitored her reaction.

“Five,” she counted, her breath soft and breathy now, as she squirmed, releasing another trickle of warm moisture from her core.

Steeling himself for what must be done, Jareth swung back the slipper then let it land, this stroke harder still, the force of the blow loud within the room. Sarah yelped at the sudden burn that flashed into her already tender flesh, her knees trembling as she moaned, “Six…Sir…”

Jareth lay the slipper on the seat of the chair under her head, then gently slid his fingers along her cheek, collecting the dark strands of hair and flicking them back over her shoulder, before settling on the sofa near her. He smiled darkly as she opened her eyes, and upon seeing the slipper literally under her nose, blushed a deep crimson. Still breathing fast, Sarah pushed up as if to stand, her eyes peeking at Jareth’s face 

“Stay. Still,” he ordered, his words quiet and hard, as was the intense expression on his face. “Tonight you will remain in that position until I am sure you are getting the lesson, my girl.” 

Sarah worried her lower lip with her teeth, feeling the butterflies take flight in earnest at his words. His girl? Was she? In some ways, she supposed she was, but the feeling of want and desire that sparked through her at that possessive turn of phrase made her heart thump wildly in her chest. Breathing deep, she forced herself to relax into the position, but nearly lost it at his next words.

“Good girl,” he murmured, the sound almost a purr. His eyes glinted darkly as he watched her reactions to both what he had done, and to his words.

Sarah’s eyes fell shut at his praise, wondering at the soft whimper, so quiet it was barely noticeable , then she realized – it came from her. She felt her cheeks burn hotter, the flushing sensation running down her neck to disappear under the neckline of her t-shirt. Cracking her eyes, she peered at Jareth through heavy lids to see if he heard it, only to have her suspicion confirmed by the knowing smile he gave her. She watched as a spinning crystal appeared in his hand and he rose from his chair, walking toward the corner of the room that was oddly devoid of furniture, wall art or decorative elements. “Come here, Sarah,” he instructed her, in that quietly authoritative tone that made her stomach do flips.

Swallowing hard, Sarah took a deep breath then stood upright again, her breathing faltering as another warm trickle caressed her intimate flesh. She looked at Jareth, standing by the corner swirling the crystal over his surprisingly bare hands. For a moment she was transfixed by the look of his naked hands, the alabaster skin over such long, elegant fingers. Finally pulling her eyes away from his hand, she glanced at his face to see him watching her with something akin to amusement.

“I don’t like to be kept waiting, Sarah mine,” he said in a quiet chuckle that carried with it a clear hint of warning.

Her tongue darted out over her dry lips as she walked toward the corner and Jareth, willing her knees not to wobble or give out. With each step she wondered just what would make standing in the corner a ‘punishment’. When she reached the corner his hand came up, fingers spread warmly over her lower back as he gently positioned her deep in the corner, her nose almost touching the wood, then he took the crystal and placed it against the wood in front of her lips.

“Purse your lips and place them against the crystal, with your hands behind your back,” he ordered her, she balked for a moment, only moving forward fully when he growled her name in warning, “Sarah… don’t defy me.”

Jareth could see her pulse racing at the base of her throat, while the sudden surge of desire and need from her would have knocked him to his knees if he had not shielded himself partially. Such a punishment was always a double-edged sword. Given his more ‘esoteric’ intimate pursuits, if she were to remain with him always, it would be best if she enjoyed these sorts of interactions, but at the same time he did actually need her to remember the lessons and the reasons for the punishment in the first place. At these early stages and in these first lessons, he was content to encourage her desire and need, knowing that she may come to associate punishment with pleasurable things – but, there were ways around that.

 _Ways and means for another day, another session_ – he mused, smiling his approval as she leaned further forward and effectively kissed the crystal.

Her lips met the cool sphere and Sarah felt a shiver run down her smile, her eyes slipping shut once more. She felt Jareth move away from her, then it was as if she were alone in the room, her bum still throbbing and burning in places from the spanking with the slipper. At first she entertained herself by contemplating how only six swats could leave a lasting effect that was both a punishment and a point of pleasure. It didn’t seem possible, although Angel had showed her some websites where pleasure and pain seemed to feature prominently.

As that thought played out, she became more aware of the ticking of the grandfather clock, each second seeming to take an age to pass, until the next tick 

Tick……….tock…….tick………………………tock. 

She heard no other sound in the room. No movement. No breathing. It was as if she were alone. The part of her that objected to his power began to scream – _He’s left you and gone to bed. He’s laughing at you. Just let the damn crystal drop and leave!_

Even though she was dying to know if she was indeed alone, she couldn’t bring herself to release the crystal, yet the very thought of him having left her alone like this, like a naughty child, made her heart clench with sadness. Would he leave her? Everyone else she cared about had left her. Everyone…except Toby. As the sadness started to engulf her she heard his voice low in her ear, the heat of his breath caressing her neck.

“Shh…let those feelings go, Sarah mine,” he murmured, not touching her in anyway, although the heat from his body burned against hers. “I will never punish you by leaving you, Precious. Nor will I abandon you. No matter what you have done or may do, you belong to my clan now. You are mine. Always.” 

His words were like a panacea to her panicked heart, and she let out a choked sob of relief, nearly dropping the crystal. With a quick tilt of her head she managed to keep it in place, Jareth’s lips still nearly touching her ear.

 

“Good girl,” he purred softly. “You must remain very still, for if you drop my crystal we will start the will start punishment over – the _whole_ punishment.” 

Sarah moaned against the crystal at that thought, while Jareth chuckled near her ear. 

“I’m sure you are probably wondering how being made to stand in a corner can be made a punishment fit for an adult, when it is usually used with a petulant child,” he murmured softly. “As you have already seen first-hand, the mind can play tricks on us when we are left alone in such a predicament. It is easy to let your fears get the best of you. That is one of the ways this is punishment. However it can also be a pleasurable punishment. I know of a king, who will take a crop to his wife when she disobeys the rules he has set for their private lives – she hates that crop with a passion,” he chuckles quietly, watching her tremble at each mention of the crop. “But she still loves that punishment, why? Because when he has beat the lesson into her pretty bare ass, he puts her in the corner of their bedroom, in a position exactly like yours. He puts her there, tucking her skirts into her belt to expose the delightful pink splotches upon her creamy skin, and he leaves her like that. Sometimes it is five minutes, sometimes it is an hour. Eventually, her pain and embarrassment transform, making her need him…his touch, until she is begging for him to quell the craving inside her. _That_ is the power of pleasure…and pain, my Sarah. Simple punishment exists for adults to use as a means to mold their children, because children must learn. But the punishment between _consenting_ adults is different, Precious. It both corrects the behavior and feeds that dark, delicious place inside us that needs something… _more_.”

One moment he was there, whispering in her ear as his words painted sensual pictures in her mind, then he was gone again. Yet this time, Sarah did not feel abandoned, quite the opposite in fact. She could still feel the warmth of his breath on her flesh, and seemed to feel his eyes upon her, watching her. The once cool crystal began to feel warmer. Closing her eyes she let the sultry images Jareth described for her, roll lazily through her mind. To accept that need, that desire….it seemed too much to dare hope for, but he spoke of it as if it were commonplace in Fae society. Her mind whirling with pictures, ideas and sensations, Sarah whimpered as another lazy drop slid free of her heated depths, making her wriggle her hips, yet still keep her lips pressed to the crystal.

Lounging in a chair behind her, Jareth watched Sarah with interest, every whimper, catch in her breath and wriggle of her hips noted by the sharp eyes of the Goblin King. He was torn and it was driving him to distraction. On the one hand he needed her to learn her place in Fae society and how to obey his rules – and the rules that are expected of royalty. Yet on the other hand, he wantsed her to come to enjoy these games, so that he might teach her other, even more intimate games.

 _Oh the games we will play, Sarah_ _mine_ – he sighed to himself as he watched her squirm, the scent of her desire becoming stronger and impossible to ignore, despite his shielding. 

When the five minutes had passed, the crystal popped, startling Sarah who was lost within her own fantasies. Gasping she whipped around to look at Jareth, to find him sitting in a leather chair behind her, one long leg crossed over the other, while his chin was propped upon his fingers, his eyes regarding her as something to be treasured and ravished utterly. 

“It popped! I didn’t drop it Jareth,” she gasped, feeling tears well up as she expected to be scolded for dropping the crystal.

In an instant he was in front of her, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her against his chest. “Shhh…it’s okay, Precious. The crystal was the timer, it popped because your time was up, darling,” he murmured gently, as his lips caressed her forehead. “You’ve done nothing wrong. It’s okay.” Leaning back, he tilted her face upward and smiled at her wide green eyes. “In fact, you’ve accepted your punishment with grace, I’m very proud of you.” 

At his praise, Sarah felt her legs wobble, her body melting against his. “I’m sorry, Jareth,” she mumbled against his shoulder.

“I know you are, Precious. But you’ll learn,” he replied, giving her a warm hug, then releasing her as her scent made his heart thud forcefully in his chest. L’hrev had to be coming soon, given the intensity of her scent. “I want you to go up and straight to bed. I will expect you for breakfast at the usual time in the morning. We will be leaving for campus promptly at 7:30.”

Sarah nodded, and made her way to the door on rubbery legs.

“Oh and Sarah,” he purred, his eyes darkening as a sly smile tweaked the corner of his lips. “Believe me when I tell you, you do _not_ want to be late for our departure in the morning. The consequences would be, more unpleasant than you have experienced thus far.”

Flicking her tongue over her lower lip, she nodded again, mumbling, “Yes, Sir,” before making her escape out the door and down the corridor toward the stairs and her rooms.

 

 

 

 

 


	14. The Rashomon Effect

**Author’s Note: Warning…Here there be LEMONS!** For my darling readers, I hereby gift you with a hefty dose of fanservice in this chapter. Cuz I’m in a good mood and my muse is apparently happy (and well fed) from all of the lovely reviews, I’m going to start the chapter off with lashings of lemons (which believe it or not actually serve to move the plot along so…BONUS!).

While I may have developed quite the reputation around the Laby fanfic fandom for writing smut with kink overtones, the fact is I agonize over my lemony scenes, worrying that they are badly written, too explicit, too little, etc… so please…REVIEW J Soothe my fragile ego.

But most of all…I hope you enjoy it. And now, without further ado or commentary by me, the goblins or their tight-panted, glittery monarch…I give you…..

**Ch. 14: The Rashomon Effect**

Sarah’s legs felt like they would give out any moment as she made her way back through the quiet house to her rooms. Each step seemed to take a great amount of sheer determination to move forward, away from Jareth, when all she really wanted to do was rush back to his study, grab him and beg him to kiss her. Groaning, she made it to the top of the stairs, trying desperately to ignore the heavy pulling sensation in her middle that seemed to lead back down the stairs to Jareth.

“What’s happening to me,” she moaned softly, pausing at the head of the stairs and glancing left, down the family hall that held Jareth’s formal library, several locked rooms belonging to other family members, and at the end of the hall, a heavily carved door that seemed to shimmer a bit despite the dimly lit hall – Jareth’s room. As she looked at the door, it seemed to pulse with her heartbeat, the pulling sensation increasing until she found herself starting to slowly tread down the hall.

“No… no… this area is off limits,” she muttered, stopping half-way down the hall, her eyes shut tight as she tried to fight off the compulsion she felt to enter that room.

Suddenly the hall seemed darker, as the scent of cinnamon, leather and spices seemed to swirl heavily around her. Gasping, Sarah took a step back – straight into a firm chest, the heat of which seemed to seep through her clothes, her skin, deep down into her very bones. A strong arm wrapped smoothly around her middle, making her tremble. Fighting to convince her legs not to give out, she tried not to focus on the gentle thump of his heartbeat against her back.

“Hmm…Just what do we have here then?” Jareth purred in her ear, the puff of his words across her flesh making her give an inarticulate moan. "What would bring you to my rooms at this hour of the evening, _Precious_? Have you come to ask for more?”

Gulping Sarah managed to force her mouth to work, her voice choked and soft, “We’re not… at your rooms….just in the hall…I was…going to my room.”

His quiet chuckle tickled her neck, “So you say…but I believe you are mistaken.”

Opening her eyes, she gasped, finding herself standing in front of the shimmering door, which seemed to pulse and throb with more power now.

“No…I…how…” she stammered, her hand coming up to lightly touch the door. It felt warm and seemed to buzz under her fingertips.

She felt the heat of his hand over her stomach, holding her gently, but firmly against his chest. “Sarah,” he murmured softly, his lips tenderly caressing her neck. “It’s okay to have desires. To have needs. All you have to do…is tell me. I will _always_ take care of you.”

With a soft whimper, her head fell to the side, as if inviting the teasing touch of his lips – and Jareth was more than happy to take advantage of that. His lips slowly traced the line of her neck, nibbling lightly upon the ivory flesh. “Tell me…what…you…want…” he whispered against her skin, sending goosebumps racing up and down her arms. “Tell me, Sarah mine…what you…need.”

His words made her heart thud erratically in her chest, a soft ‘Oh’ slipping past her lips. Slowly her eyes opened, focusing on the shimmering, pulsating door in front of her. “Am I…Yours?” she breathed, her body entranced by the feel of his lips upon her neck and the warm hand that gently caressed her belly, holding her to him.

“Do you want to be?” he asked, reaching out and lightly flicking her earlobe with the tip of his tongue, the action sending a jolt of desire straight to her core as she jumped slightly in his grasp.

“I…can’t,” she whispered, her eyes falling shut once more as the hand on her stomach began to move her, turning her until she felt firm, warm wood behind her back and the lithe form of the Goblin King to her front. His hand came up, gently cupping her cheek with his heated palm. Opening her eyes, she gazed into familiar mismatched eyes that seemed to burn with an intensity she knew was for her alone. His nearness made her tremble, her lips parting of their own accord.

“You can,” he murmured again, his voice a seductive rumble deep in his chest. “You will always be safe with me, darling Sarah.”

His face drew nearer to hers, then his lips found her ear once more, gently nuzzling the hyper-sensitive flesh beneath it, before slowly kissing along her jaw. “Tell me…Sarah…what you want.”

Groaning softly, her head fell back, letting his warm hand support it, while he proceeded to kiss and tease the slender column of her exposed throat. “Say it,” he murmured again, his voice rougher now.

“You…” she managed to rasp, her hands tightening in his black t-shirt. “I want…you.”

His lips found hers, in a tender yet passionate kiss. Pressing toward her, the feathery hair around his face fell forward to dance against her cheeks, like feathers upon the wind. The kiss is at once gentle and demanding, as he supped upon her lips, his tongue delicately teasing the seam of her lips until they part, giving him entrance. Slowly he slipped his tongue between them, the sensation sending ripples of pleasure through her.

 _Dreams of his kisses were one thing, but the reality…oh God…the reality was so much better_ – Sarah thought, before all rational thought fled in the wake of his tongue sliding sensually along hers, while his body pressed her tighter to the door.

One minute Sarah was pinned between the door and the long planes of Jareth’s body, the feel of his thigh pressing firmly between her own making her squirm and moan into his lips; then in the next instant she felt herself sinking into something soft, his hard body covering hers. Sarah moaned, instinctively arching her body against his, only to gasp, her eyes opening wide when she realized there was nothing between them – nothing except desire. When his lips found her pulse point, sucking softly on it, her body arched again, dragging her breasts along his chest, the nipples budding tight with the feel of his bare flesh. Sarah could feel his sickle shaped pendant imprinting its design upon her breast, just as his kisses imprinted his desire upon her soul. She could feel everything all at once, as if her entire body was a single nerve ending that was firing repeatedly.

Jareth’s hand slid down her side, his fingertips warm and firm as they glided along each rib before slowly rising to graze the side of her breast. Shifting his hand, his thumb lightly stroked across her nipple, earning him an enraptured moan from the woman under him.

When he had thought of taking her to his bed, he had planned to take his time, learn every inch of her body and teach her every inch of his own, yet the reality was too much, even for an immortal. He wanted…no needed…to join with her, to sate the need that burned through his veins, and had since he first saw her in his home. They could spend days learning each other later, for now there was just the inferno of desire that demanded release.

Rocking his hips toward her, he growled quietly against her throat at the delicious feel of his hard length sliding against the velvet skin of her hip. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to sink himself inside her and let her silken channel caress him fully. Raising his head, he looked at her, her head thrown back while her body arched and trembled under his touch. She was stunning, laid out like an offering on the sapphire sheets of his bed. Jareth leaned forward, capturing her lips once more, while his fingers trailed lazily around a budding nipple, then slowly teased down her body. As his fingers curled between her warm thighs, Sarah bucked under him, her hips lifting toward his hand, a needy moan falling from her lips. Jareth growled softly against her lips, the desire flaring inside him further to find the sleek curls at her center already damp with need.

“I could _smell_ your need, with each swat,” he purred in her ear, grinding himself against her hip again as his fingers swirled easily around the small bud, finding it slick and warm.

“Yes,” Sarah panted, her back and neck arching further with his caress. “God…yes.”

Turning his hand, he gave a heated groan against her neck, as he was able to easily slide a finger into her, her warmth immediately grasping onto it and pulsing. He fought hard to remain gentle, when everything inside him was demanding that he ravish her, instead his fingers gently delved deeper into her, stroking the tender nerves within in a way that made her mewl and writhe upon the sheets.

“So warm…and wet for me, Precious,” he murmured, her moans and whimpers sounding like the finest of Fae symphonies to his ear. “I want to feel you…come undone…”

Sarah gasped and trembled as he touched something inside her that sent a bolt of sheer ‘want’ through her. She felt his body against hers, his bare skin seeming to burn, but she needed it – oh, how she needed it and wanted more of him. Turning she kissed him hungrily, as he slid a second finger into her, making her whimper at the feeling of being stretched, then his thumb stroked the taut bud at her core and she saw stars, her legs tightening and starting to tremble.

Feeling her start to flutter around his fingers, Jareth purred softly in her ear, “That’s it…I want it…relax and let go, Sarah mine.”

Between his words, his fingers and the overall feeling of his hard body wrapped around hers, Sarah arched upward, her chest heaving as she shuddered violently from head to toe, a ragged cry tearing from her lips – “Jareth!”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

At her cry, Jareth found himself lurching to a seated position in his bed, his body slick with sweat, while the sheets fell down, pooling around his hips, hardly hiding the effect the dream had upon him.

 “A dream…I was dreaming,” he panted, shaking his head as the images played over and over in his mind. To say that the Goblin King was surprised would be an understatement. His mind whirled over the dream, while his inner-self kept insisting above the din – Fae _don’t dream!_

It was true… an established fact. Fae didn’t dream except in very special circumstances and there were really only three types of dreams: prophetic, spell-bound or those dreams that were had with one’s marked or bonded mate.

Panting to catch his breath, Jareth realized Sarah’s scent bathed him as strongly as if she had been in the room. With a frown he flexed his fingers, marveling at how cramped and tense they felt, just like they would be if he had really been stroking her. Curiously, he raised his hand, the scent of her desire increasing as his hand neared his nose. “No…it couldn’t be,” he murmured, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed as he tried to sort out what had happened.

Unbidden, a crystal appeared in his hand, the mist inside it clearing to reveal Sarah’s head, drenched in what appeared to be water, the sound of a shower running over her as she muttered. “It was just a dream…it was just a dream….oh fuck me… what a dream,” she moaned, tapping her forehead against the pastel tiles of her shower.

Chuckling, Jareth flicked the crystal away in the air and lay back on his bed, mulling over the dream and what he had just seen from Sarah. _We shared a dream_ \-- he mused, his blue eyes narrowing as he considered the implications. There was only one reason in his world, why two people would share a dream, particularly a dream like this – but that would require a mutual marking at least, or a full bonding. So the question was, how did _they_ do it, because he was quite sure they had not marked each other…yet.

Shutting his eyes, Jareth pushed the nagging question from his mind, fighting instead to hang onto the feeling of Sarah’s body arching and writhing against his as long as he could. _At least she found her release_ – he thought with a pleased smirk, then noticed the tight ache in his own groin. Glancing down he sighed, happy in the knowledge that whatever it was that had caused the dream, he knew that Sarah had enjoyed it.

“It isn’t like I’m a novice at taking my own needs in hand,” he muttered, shutting his eyes once more and letting the sensation of Sarah’s release, her delightful mewling and the heady scent of her desire float through his mind, as he sought his own release.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

As she felt herself come apart around Jareth’s fingers, Sarah had cried out hoarsely, the sound waking her up, even as her body continued to convulse with the aftershocks. Moaning, she rolled onto her side, curling in on herself, her mind filled with the sensations of his hands on her body, in what was the most intensely sexual dream she had ever had. It took her several minutes to realize that the heavy scent of cinnamon, leather and spices was not just in her head it practically saturated her body – she smelled like she had been coated in Jareth’s scent.

“What the fuck?” she groaned, her body still sensitive to every touch, even her own sheets and pajamas threatening to set her off once more.

With a soft moan she got up and padded into the bathroom, turning the water up until it was barely lukewarm. The steady hiss of the shower covered her quiet panting, as she pulled off her sweat-soaked pajamas, dropping them in a pile on the floor. Stepping into the shower, she leaned her hand on the wall, almost expecting the cool water to sizzle on her skin, and only vaguely surprised when it didn’t.

 _This has to stop_ – she thought, thumping her forehead against the wall. _It isn’t right to think this way about my guardian._

Frowning she turned, leaning against the other wall, her eyes locked on the shower curtain, yet not seeing the cheerful design that decorated it, her attention focused inward.

_Jareth is a king, he’ll be expected to marry a princess or something. Not some nobody mortal._

_But you’re the Champion of the Labyrinth_ – argued her inner-self.

Sarah thumped her head on the wall again, as if trying to shut up the counter-arguments offered up by her inner-self.

“No no…” she muttered. “I can’t get attached to him. It will only end in tears.”

Sighing she leaned her head against the wall and shut her eyes, shivering slightly under to cool spray of water that continued to wash over her, cooling her skin even as his scent clung to her, seeming to permeate every cell of her being.

“And we won’t even _talk_ about the fact that I’m such a freak that I actually got…got…hot… when he spanked me,” she moaned, her voice starting to crack as tears came. Sliding down the wall of the shower, she huddled in the bottom of the shower recess and sobbed – sobbing out her frustration, her confusion, her embarrassment and her desire for more. It was all too much.

Fighting the urge to scream, she thumped her head harder on the wall then grunted, “Ow… Who knew having Jareth in my life would be such a pain,” she sniffed, wiping her eyes with a wrinkled hand. With red, stinging eyes and shriveled, water-logged skin, she finally reached over and turned off the water, then got up, stumbling out of the shower and wrapping herself in the thick robe from the back of the door.

“Time to stop crying and figure out what to do,” she told herself sternly, starting at her painful eyes in the mirror, as she brushed the tangles from her hair.

The decision was easy, but figuring out how to achieve it was more difficult. Under ordinary circumstances Sarah would avoid him, however that was kind of impossible given the fact that they lived together ( _Co-habitated_ – she heard Angel giggle her in mind) and she had to see him for breakfast, dinner and the nightly ‘accounting’. So, avoiding him was not an option, yet she had to distance herself from him emotionally if not physically. Frowning she ran a hand through her wet hair, of course this also meant that she needed to avoid any excuse for him to be near her or touch her – which meant no more punishments.

There was no other option. As much as she hated the idea of obeying him, she had no real choice. She had to be good. Perfectly, obedient.

 _Anything is better than another punishment_ – she thought, while her libido wailed in protest.

Drying off, Sarah pulled on her favourite pair of pajamas from the dresser and tried to go back to sleep, only to end up tossing and turning for hours. Every time she closed her eyes she was back in that dream, with Jareth’s body pressed against hers and the evidence of his own desire prodding at her stomach, while he laved her throat, licking and nibbling with seductive kisses.

By 4 am she realized sleep was an impossibility and just got up. It was going to be a very long day.

To begin her plan of giving Jareth no chance to draw her in physically or emotionally, Sarah was ready for breakfast at 6 am instead of the usual 6:30. Picking up her calculus textbook, she paused at the mirror near her outer door and sighed, taking in the purple-black shadows under her eyes, and her red, puffy eyes. There was no way Jareth wouldn’t notice, but it couldn’t be helped. She just prayed he didn’t make a big deal out of it.

Steeling herself, Sarah left her room. Better to be far too early for breakfast, than risk being even one second late.

“I can do this,” she whispered to herself as she tread along the plush carpet of the hall, her heart thundering in her chest with the thought of having to face Jareth after what happened in her dream. “Jareth doesn’t know what happened. So I’ll hide. Conceal it all. Refuse to feel…anything. I can stop this before it gets out of hand.” With her mantra ‘Conceal…don’t feel’ running through her mind, Sarah Williams marched resolutely toward the breakfast room, but found herself wishing that perhaps Jareth would be called away again – preferably until she turned 18 and could escape the manor for the solitude and freedom of university.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Unlike Sarah, Jareth woke with the sun, as was usual for the King. When the first warm rays peeked through his window, striking the alabaster chest of the Goblin King, he was sprawled across the bed, smirking in his sleep. Feeling the warm of the sun on his skin, he stretched lazily, the sheets sliding sensually over the hard planes of his body. As far as he was concerned, that was one of the best night’s sleep he had had since… _Since Sarah left my Labyrinth in shambles_ – he thought, then smiled. _But she is here now. And she wants me. I know that now. She’ll be mine by the end of Yule Court and there will be more dreams._

His smile became broader, a dark hunger flickering through his pale eyes, at the thought of the intimate dreams they might share at that point.

 _Or more than dreams_ – suggested his libido, and Jareth was not about to argue. Physical intimacy was certainly not against the rules of Fae courting, although he knew with Sarah that nothing would come easy – least of all Sarah. No, it was still best to take things slowly with the girl. After all, there was no reason to rush, they had all eternity for such things.

Rising, Jareth didn’t even register the moment when the silken sheet dropped to the floor, as he was perfectly comfortable in his nude state. With a quietly pleased smile, he peered out over the Labyrinth, relishing the way the pink rays of the morning sun teased over the garden, making the crystal atop the stone plinth glint sharply, reflecting pink and purple warmth. It made him miss his ‘real’ Labyrinth and his kingdom, but there were things here that still needed his attention – not the least of which were his wards. Twisting sharply, his back gave a satisfying crack, and Jareth noticed how Sarah’s scent still clung to him, the movement causing the scent to increase. His eyes fell shut as he breathed deep the succulent smell and purred, his features oddly feline in his contentment. He was loathe to shower, for fear he would wash away the delightful scent, but it wouldn’t do to go to his meeting in London smelling of Sarah’s desire and release.  _Although if I were going to the High Council, it would be worth it_ – he chuckled to himself, imagining the faces of the other single Fae males.

By 6:15 he was dressed and ready to break his fast with Sarah. Smiling, he adjusted his tie and cufflinks, before pushing open the door, only to stop in surprise, as Sarah was already there. She sat in her chair, a textbook open in front of her, muttering to herself, while twining a lock of chestnut hair around a finger. The girl must have been absorbed in what she was reading, as she didn’t even look up when he walked into the room, nor when he took his seat at the head of the table to her right.

“Morning,” she finally muttered as he placed his napkin in his lap, her head still down and focused on her book.

“Good morning to you too, Sarah,” he chuckled, pouring a cup of coffee for himself, then one for her, nudging it over toward her free hand.

“Thanks,” she replied flatly, still not looking up from her text.

Frowning slightly, Jareth stirred sugar and cream into his coffee, watching Sarah intently, as he found himself in the awkward situation of being unsure, something he rarely was -- except where Sarah was concerned.

“Are you going to read all through breakfast?” he asked, picking up his coffee cup and sipping it, while Mrs. Brown and the new kitchen girl entered the room and began to serve. Sarah moved only to give Mrs. Brown access to her plate, her attention still focused on her book, despite the fact that she hadn’t been able to understand a single word of the section since the Goblin King had entered the room.

When Mrs. Brown and the other girl had left, Sarah shrugged, flipping a page of her book. “Why not? You usually read the paper,” she said, then picked up a bit of toast and bit into it, her eyes still upon the book.

Jareth knew something was wrong, but was at a loss over what it might be. Still watching her, he felt along the familial link, only to find himself to be even more confused. Gone were the feelings of confusion he had felt from her since she had arrived at the manor, replaced with a calm sort of determination, tinged with anger.

 _Anger?_ – he wondered. _Why is she angry with me. Surely not over the punishment. We’ve been over the reasoning for it, and she didn’t seem particularly upset over it last night._

“Sarah, you are acting as though something is bothering you,” he began, his tone quiet and gentle. “Would you like to talk about it? Believe it or not, I can be an excellent listener when needed.”

“Nothing to talk about,” came the curt reply, the girl dropping her head further, her hair falling so as to hide her face. _Nothing I can discuss with you anyway_ – she thought.

Jareth’s jaw ticked as he fought to quell his rising irritation with the girl. He had been warned by his mother and all of his sisters that teenage girls were apt to be moody. They had cautioned him that should Sarah exhibit such behavior, he should avoid the desire to push her. At the same time, he couldn’t understand why she seemed so upset after the wonderfully pleasurable dream she had the night before.

“Sarah, please shut the book and look at me. Something is clearly not right,” he tried again. “You haven’t been this surly with me since that first morning. I would like it if you would talk to me about what is bothering you.”

Pursing her lips, Sarah flipped her textbook shut with a dull thudding sound, a sharp burst of irritation running through her at his insistence. She sat up straighter in her chair, then turned to look at him, flipping her hair back from her face.

“And I told you, there is nothing I want to talk about with _you_ ,” she said, her green eyes defiant and cold.

Seeing the deep purple bags under her eyes and her blood-shot eyes, Jareth’s irritation turned to concern. “Sarah, are you ill?” he asked, reaching out gently toward her face, only to pull back when she tensed, flinching away from him. “I wasn’t going to hurt you, Precious.”

“I’m not ill and I know you wouldn’t hurt me, I just don’t want you to touch me,” she grumbled, her posture rigid in her chair, while her hands balled into fists in her lap. “And don’t call me ‘Precious’. I don’t like it.”

Jareth smelled the bitter, sour scent of anger from her, while the feeling of determination waivered momentarily.

“I am only trying to understand what is wrong, Sarah,” he said, fighting to keep the frustration out of his tone.

“And I’m telling you nothing is wrong. I didn’t sleep well. Okay? Can we just eat and get me to school so I’m out of your hair for the day?” she snapped.

Silently, Jareth nodded toward the table, “By all means, Sarah,” he said, feeling his aggravation with the girl starting to build. _Will it always be this way with her_ – he wondered, watching as she picked at her breakfast.

After several minutes of silent eating, Jareth tried again, “We will be having some Underground guests visiting us next weekend, so I thought this week would be a good time to begin your private tutoring with me, regarding Fae Society.”

Sarah didn’t react, or give any indication that she had heard him, other than stabbing a sausage link with a bit more force than was required for a meat product that was already dead and cooked.

Sighing, Jareth continued, “On Tuesday and Thursday evenings, you will be with me from 6:30 until our usual 9 pm meeting. We’ll start this week with dining etiquette and modes of address for royal family members.”

This at least seemed to pique her attention, although she still refused to look at him. “So, aside from what fork to use and who to call what, what other things will you be teaching me?” she asked, rolling a bit of sausage around her plate with her fork.

“A variety of things that will help you function and take your place in Fae society. Manners of address, a bit of Fae and Undergound history, social rules, dancing, music, and general Fae culture,” he said, puzzled by the way she shuddered at the mention of dancing. _Odd…she is an excellent dancer, this I already know_ – he mused.

Sarah said nothing more, barely eating more than a few bites before putting down her fork, her eyes glued to her plate.

“I’m done. Can I go get my school things now,” she asked in a monotone voice.

“Of course,” Jareth replied, disturbed by the way she grabbed her book and stalked from the room.

 _Well…that could have gone better_ – he frowned, finding the silence of the breakfast room to be a relief after the uncomfortable presence of Sarah. _If this keeps up long, perhaps having Mother and Father visit will be a useful thing._

 _Hell…if this keeps up long…locking the girl in an oubliette sounds like a perfectly viable option_ – grumbled his inner-self, and Jareth found himself inclined to agree,

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

**Author’s Note:** Did you catch the movie reference in this chapter? *snicker* Also, the Rashomon Effect is a term based off the movie ‘Rashomon’, which shows how several people view the same event, vastly differently – just as Sarah and Jareth are doing here.

As always…please leave a contribution in the little box! J


	15. Teenage Wildlife

Breathless and grinning, Angel rushed into the dining hall late during the Thursday lunch period. Grabbing a tray, she swiftly picked up a slice of pizza, a large sugar cookie, an apple and a bottle of sweet tea, then scanned the room for Sarah. She found Sarah sitting in the far corner of the room near the great fireplace…alone.  Angel didn’t know what had happened once she left Tylluan Manor Sunday afternoon, but something clearly had. All week long Angel had watched her friend mope around, throwing herself into her school work, her music practice and even her hated field hockey practice. It was unsettling. Angel had tried to get Sarah to open up about what was bothering her, but kept getting shot down with lies – ‘I’m fine,” Sarah had said. ‘Nothing is wrong.’

 _I’m not stupid. Something is wrong and I’m guessing his name begins with an R and rhymes with ‘sexy’_ – Angel sighed to herself as she wound her way through the tables to where Sarah was sitting, pushing lettuce around on her plate.

“Hey girlie, sorry I’m late,” Angel said, giving Sarah a broad grin, her tray clattering on the table.

Sarah looked up and Angels’ smiled faded at seeing the dark purple bags under her friend’s eyes. Whatever was wrong, it was keeping her from sleeping. “Okay, look…it’s time for a little tough love, hon, cuz you look like shit,” she said, giving Sarah a stern look.

“Thanks, that’s exactly the look I was going for,” Sarah quipped, her attempt at humor belied by her lifeless smile.

Angel shook her head, “No, seriously, Sarah. I’m really worried about you. You look like you haven’t slept in days, you are eating even less than you usually do, you even mucked up the solo in orchestra this morning – when I know you could have played that in your sleep on the weekend. Now, you either tell me what is going on, or I’m going to have to… I dunno… report it to the school nurse or psychologist or something.”

Sarah groaned, dropping her head to the table. “You’re as bad as Gareth,” she muttered, thumping her head on the tabletop. “Why can’t you both accept that I don’t want to talk about it?”

Shrugging Angel bit into her pizza, “I can’t speak for Sexy Rexy, but…” she began, the stopped cold when Sarah slammed her hands down on the table, raising her head and glaring at Angel.

“Do. Not. Call. Him. That!” Sarah hissed, her green eyes flashing angrily within her sallow face.

Angel blinked, sitting back in surprise by Sarah’s outburst. “Um..okay. Tho that lil bitch-fit definitely narrows things down a bit. Obviously, you’re having a problem with Gareth.”

At that Sarah burst into tears. Snatching up her backpack she ran from the dining hall, narrowly missing Marcy and her friends as she fled. Angel sighed, giving one last wistful glance at her pizza, then grabbing the cookie and apple she stuffed them into her bag as she followed Sarah.

“Watch it, Omicioli,” Marcy snapped while Angel ran past.

“Kiss my ass, bitch-queen,” Angel called over her shoulder, as she dodged several groups of students, while trying to keep Sarah in sight.

She could see Sarah further down the hall, her head down as she crashed through the front doors of the hall, heading down the steps to the grounds. Angel stopped at the front steps, Angel frantically searching the school grounds to see where Sarah was going, only to find her running toward the arts building. Panting a bit now, Angel took off after her friend, slowing down to a gentle jog as she rounded the corner of the building and saw Sarah throw her backpack against a tree and collapse under it, her face in her hands. When she was near the tree, Angel slowed down. Quietly walking up to Sarah, she dropped her backpack on the ground, then settled next to it, her legs curled under her as she wrapped her arm around Sarah. Turning, Sarah buried her face against her friend’s shoulder and sobbed like her heart was breaking. After several more minutes, Sarah sat up, scrubbing at her red eyes with the wrist of her blazer, then she pulled her knees up and laid her head on them.

“Whatever it is, Sarah…it’ll be okay,” Angel said, biting her lip and awkwardly patting Sarah’s back.  “It’ll all work out.”

“How?” moaned Sarah, turning to lay her cheek on her knees, while looking at Angel, her eyes red and shining with tears.

Shrugging, Angel smiled quietly, “Dunno…it’s a mystery.”

Sarah gave a half-hearted laugh at that, her green eyes still watery. Sitting up she sighed, stretching her legs out in front of her on the grass. “I’m sorry for snapping at you like that,” she muttered.

Angel gently nudged Sarah’s shoulder with her own. “Meh… no big. That’s what friends are for. If you can’t abuse your friends, who can ya…err…well…that sounded better in my head, that coming outta my mouth,” she grinned, then the smile slid from her face, her eyes narrowing seriously. “So, are you going to tell me what’s been eating at you all week? I mean, we’re teen girls, we’re supposed to be moody, but you’re taking it a bit far when you are out emo-ing the goth kids.”

Giggling now, Sarah wiped at the tear tracks on her cheeks with her hands. After a moment, her laughter stopped and she looked at Angel. “You’re right. I’ve got a problem with Gareth and I’m not sure what to do about it. I mean, I know what I have to do, but it’s….oh fuck…it’s all so complicated,” she sighed, shaking her head.

“Well, maybe it will help you to work it out, if you told me what was going on,” Angel suggested, pulling the apple from her bag and offering it to Sarah, who took it without really thinking about it, rolling it absently along her hand.

Taking a deep breath, Sarah looked off across the commons area, watching other groups of students talking and playing games. She wasn’t sure she wanted to talk about it yet, but it was eating her up inside.

“You asked me if I liked Gareth, and I do…I guess. But I shouldn’t,” she began, raising her hand and shaking her head when Angel opened her mouth to interject. “No… I really shouldn’t. He’s my guardian. End of story.”

Angel frowned, clearly not convinced. “I know you say that, Sarah, but I think it is a load of bull. I’m telling you he is interested.”

“Even if he is, it is wrong and it has to stop,” Sarah sighed. “I have to stop this feeling before it gets any stronger.”

“Okay, but none of this explains why you look like death-warmed over,” Angel countered, breaking her sugar cookie into pieces and laying them on a textbook between herself and Sarah.

Sarah groaned, thumping her head against the tree, “I’ve been dreaming of him ever since Sunday night. Always the same dream of the two of us in his bed.”

Angel’s eyes widened at that admission and she whistled softly, “Forgive me, but I’m still having a hard time figuring how dreaming about him is a bad thing.”

Picking up a bit of the cookie, Sarah was momentarily entranced by the way the sun glints of the tiny sugar crystals on the top – crystals. _There’s always crystals_ – she sighed inwardly. Her eyes narrowed in thought as her jaw tightened, “Because I wake up every single time, in the middle of some of the best orgasms I’ve ever had – which isn’t saying much since I’ve only had a couple before this. And once it happens, I’m afraid to go back to sleep because it just happens again…and again.” Looking at Angel, Sarah’s eyes shined with tears again. “I’m so damn tired, Angel. I haven’t had more than a couple hours of sleep all week.”

“I still don’t see this Gareth ‘whatever-it-is’ as a problem,” Angel replied.

“Angel, I can _not_ fall for my guardian. It’s too skeevy, so I have to figure out how to stop myself before I fall further,” Sarah said with a resolute nod. “So, basically I’ve been trying to avoid him, but he isn’t making it easy. I have to have breakfast and dinner with him when he is home, and he is home this week. And his punishment for going into town last week is that he drives me to and from school every day – that’s another hour each day. And to make things worse, I now have to spend all of Tuesday and Thursday evening with him while he tutors me in preparation for some big set of parties he is taking Toby and I to over Christmas.”

“Okay, so… it is kinda hard to avoid him when you live under the same roof,” Angel nods. “I can see how that would be a problem. If you can’t avoid him physically, maybe you need to find a way to avoid him emotionally?”

Sarah stopped playing with the apple and looked at Angel, “Exactly… got any ideas how to go about doing that…cuz nothing I’ve done so far has worked and the dreams are just as vivid as the first one.”

Angel gave her friend a wink, “If you’re trying to avoid an emotional entanglement with one person, the best way to go about it is to get entangled with someone else.”

“I don’t suppose you have any likely candidates?” Sarah asked, intrigued by the cheeky grin on Angel’s face.

“As a matter of fact, I do,” Angel laughed, wrapping her arm around Sarah with a conspiratorial grin. “As a matter of fact, I do.”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

The only sound in the formal dining room Thursday night was the quiet ‘tinking’ of cutlery against china. Despite Jareth’s best efforts at getting Sarah to tell him what was bothering her, she had persisted in the odd silent and surly treatment all week long. Tuesday night they had their first etiquette session and Jareth was somewhat relieved to discover that her parents had taught her how to manage an elaborate table setting. While Fae formal dinners had a few more courses and some specialty cutlery not used in modern Aboveground society, she picked up the details quickly. However, much to his chagrin, that didn’t mean her attitude had thawed toward him. If anything, it had only gotten worse. Unless she had a question regarding the etiquette lesson, she answered every question with a one word answer, usually delivered with an irritated sigh, an angry glare, or even worse, the lifeless monotone that he had come to despise from her.

Other than that, she had been well-behaved all week, which should have pleased him immensely, but all it did was make him more frustrated. Oh, how he wanted to punish her for locking him out and treating him like the villain in a fairy-story once more.

 _I thought we were past this_ – he grumbled to himself, watching her silently working to eat the Fae artichoke with the grinyu, a special type of fork and tweezer arrangement that the Fae favored for eating this particular delicacy.

Pushing his aggravation down, he tried yet again, smiling warmly at her, “Did you know that Fae artichokes once found their way to the Above, during the middle ages. They are partly responsible for the reputation that artichokes now have as an aphrodisiac. It seems that when cooked with certain Aboveground herbs, the mild aphrodisiac effect that Fae experience was multiplied, resulting in all out orgies.”

He thought the story was an amusing tidbit and hoped she might at least crack a smile for him – apparently she didn’t. Instead she dropped her grinyu across the plate signaling she was done with the course, with a bit more force than was necessary. The fair- silver cutlery chimed loudly in the silence of the dining room, as she gave him a hateful look.

“Oh, so it isn’t bad enough you’ve been meddling in my dreams against Fae law, now you’re trying to drug me again? Way to go, Jareth,” she hissed, her green eyes flashing angrily at him.

Frowning, Jareth dropped his own grinyu upon the plate and glared at the infuriating girl. “What the blue blazes are you talking about, woman? I have _not_ been meddling in your dreams. I’m the Guardian, for me to interfere in the dreams of another aside from protecting them from such meddling, well… that would be tantamount to treason and I’d be executed for it!”

“Good,” grumped Sarah, folding her arms over her chest.

Jareth blinked in surprise at the venom in that one simple word. “You’d really wish such a fate upon me, Sarah?” he asked quietly, his shock at her response evident in the his subdued tone. 

Sarah merely, glowered at him, then she looked away, her words icy, “I’d have thought after all this time you might at least learn a few new tricks.”

“Damnit Sarah!” Jareth growled, “I swear I have not interfered in your dreams. If you are dreaming things you do not wish to, only _you_ have the power to change them. As for trying to drug you, I am _not!_ These artichokes were prepared especially for you by Sir Didymus, using his wife’s recipe, which neutralizes the magical effect of them. I would no more serve you magical food than I would turn you over to Rayvn!”

The heat in her manner seemed to die down a bit at that, the firey green in her eyes fading a bit. “You…he…did?” she muttered, then frowned adding, “I didn’t know he had a wife.”

Sighing Jareth, smoothed his napkin back in his lap and picked up his grinyu to return to his dinner. Whatever was bothering her wasn’t resolved, but at least she was speaking to him again.

“There are many things about my kingdom and even your friends, that you don’t know, Sarah. I had hoped to start sharing these things with you during our lessons, but you have been in such a foul mood all week that it has not been possible,” he said quietly, inwardly pleased when she picked up her grinyu and started to pluck the succulent flesh from her artichoke again. “And for what it is worth, I didn’t drug you the first time, Sarah. The peach was magical, part of a spell.” Jareth said.  “The dream peach is part of the trial of the Labyrinth. Everyone gets the peach, what they dream however, depends upon what is inside their heart, their most secret longings and fears.”

“So…no more magical food,” she asked, pausing before she took the bite on her grinyu, she peered at it, then fixed Jareth with a steely look.

“No more magical food, Sarah – at least none that you are fed without your knowing,” he nodded. “There will always be magical food at Fae functions, but I assure you that I will make sure you know which items are magical and what they do, before you try anything. Pax?”

She glared crossly at her artichoke again, then nodded. “Pax,” she said, putting the bite into her mouth. “And would you please tell Sir Didymus that his artichokes were thoughtful and delicious?”

“Of course, Precious,” he smiled, relieved that they had at least managed to declare a truce on this one point. Then her face fell and she fixed him with another venomous glare.

“I said…not to call me that,” she hissed. “You don’t have the right. I am not your anything.”

And with that one word, they were back to the icy silence between them. Try as he might, for the rest of the lesson she only responded in monotone or with one word answers, as if she were trying very hard to pretend that he didn’t actually exist in the same room or world as she did. By the time dessert had been served and it was time for the evening accounting and Jareth’s patience for her behavior had come to an end.

Throwing his napkin on the table he stood, pleased when she followed protocol and bowed her head in the presence of the rising king. _At least something of Underground protocol has gotten into her stubborn head this week_ – he thought bitterly.

“I don’t know what the seven Hells is wrong with you this week, but I do get that you have some bug up your arse about me,” he snapped, his words cold and clipped. “I have tried my best to get you to open up to me but you stubbornly refuse to even _try_ to help sort it out. So fine. I’m done trying. All I ask is that you act in a civil manner to me while my parents are here visiting. They are coming all this way merely to meet you and Toby – and I expect you to treat them with the courtesy and respect due to the High King and Queen. If you embarrass me in front of them with your surly behavior, I _will_ punish you for it. Disrespecting Underground royalty is a serious offense, particularly for a member of the royal household – which you are. I’ve put up with your disrespect to me, because I’m trying to be understanding of the fact that you are under quite a bit of pressure between the move, my expectations and your parents’ death – but I warn you girl, my patience in tolerating your disrespect toward me is rapidly nearing its end. Have I made myself _quite_ clear?”

Without looking up at him, Sarah quietly folded her napkin and placed it beside her place, then turned her head, her green eyes clear and hard as she looked up at him. “Crystal…your _majesty_ ,” she hissed.

“Excellent. Now seeing as we have no other business together for the night, I suggest you go to bed,” he snarled, then turned and stalked out of the dining room, determined to retreat to his rooms at the castle before letting his temper take hold.

For the rest of the evening, the sound of shattering crystals filled the halls of the Goblin Castle – not that many goblins heard it.  Those with any sense decided that the wise thing to do would be to adjourn to the ‘Black Chiken Pub’™ and drink themselves into oblivion or until the Goblin King worked out his feelings about the Sarah girl – whichever came first. This of course led to a betting pool, where the smart money was on oblivion at 2:1, as the odds on the king ever working out his feelings regarding the girl was 213:1 (not that math was a goblin strong suit anyway).

In the wee small hours of the morning, the Goblin King finally returned to his chambers, allowing himself to collapse on his bed, exhausted from working through his anger at the infuriating girl. Thinking over Sarah’s words, he kept finding himself returning to her accusation that he was tampering with her dreams. With a frown he pulled a crystal from the air, his pale eyes narrowing as he watched the dream unfold.

 _It’s the same dream_ – he mused, watching the dream through to the conclusion to see if it deviated in any way. After watching it twice, he frowned. It was exactly the same both times, down to the last moan and sigh.

Laying back, he stared at the ceiling, letting the crystal merely ‘pop’ out of existence, while he mulled over the implications of Sarah’s dream. _We shared it once, yet she claims to be having the same dream every night. So why am I not having it?_ _And why does she want rid of it so bad, it’s not a nightmare by any stretch of the imagination!_ – he wondered, then grumbled as a burst of anger shot through him. “And what is so bloody terrible about dreaming of us together, in my bed?!”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Jareth growled, his gloved fingers tight around the steering wheel of the little green Jaguar, trying desperately not to channel his frustration with Sarah into the gas pedal of the car – and failing horribly, as the car went hurtling along the narrow country road. Breakfast has been silent once more, to the point that even Mrs. Brown had cornered him afterward to ask him about Sarah’s attitude, as it seemed that even the chambermaids and kitchen girls were going out of their way to avoid her. Sighing, Jareth had promised the concerned housekeeper that he would speak to Sarah.

When she slid into the car after field hockey practice smiling at him, he had hoped that meant whatever snit she had gotten into was finally over – sadly that was not the reason.

“Jareth, some of the kids from our year are going to the movies tonight in town. Angel and I were hoping you’d let me go with her then stay the night on campus,” she asked as the car drove along the road leading off-campus.

“No, Sarah,” Jareth said, shaking his head and nodding to Angel as she waved from her dormitory window. “You know my parents are arriving this evening and I want you there to greet them.”

Flopping back in her seat, Sarah folded her arms over her chest and stared angrily out the window of the car. “I could meet them then go,” she grumbled.

“That would be rude, Sarah. They are making a special trip to meet you and Toby because they want to spend time with _both_ of you,” he replied, hoping she would accept his answer and let it drop.

She didn’t.

The entire thirty minute drive home was filled with an extended argument that spilled over as they entered the front door of the manor, Sarah’s raised voice echoing in the front hall, while Jareth’s icy replies seemed to slice against the walls.

“I’ve been good all week. Done everything you wanted, why can’t you give me this one night to actually…I dunno…have FUN?” she yelled, stomping after him as he walked into the hall, then poking him in the chest with her finger when he turned around and glared furiously at her. “Do you know what it is like being cooped up in this tyrolian haunted house with an overbearing bully?!”

“Do you have any idea what it is like being stuck here with a harpy of a teenager who can’t take no for an answer when it is perfectly reasonable?” he growled, his voice taking on an ethereal tinge. “I said _no_ … you are not going to fritter your time away in town tonight when my parents will be here. I expect you to be here to greet them and for the love the Gods, I ask you to mind your manners and your venomous tongue.”

“Don’t worry your _pretty_ head, I’ll be nice to _them_. It’s just _you_ I hate,” she snapped, stepping around him and flouncing toward the stairs only to be stopped by a steely hand that reached out, grabbing her shoulder and turning her around.

“Oh no, Precious, you don’t get to speak to me like that and then just walk off,” he hissed, his tone icy, as were his eyes. “I don’t know why you suddenly have decided I am the villain here. All I’ve done since you arrived is try to make things easier for you, within the bounds of preparing you to join our world. But I am _through_ with this behavior of yours. At this rate you can spend the whole bloody weekend in your room for all I care!”

“Fine! It’s better than having to be _anywhere_ near you!” she shouted and moved once more toward the stairs, only to freeze upon hearing someone in the formal parlor clearing their throat.

Both Jareth and Sarah turned toward the sound, to find a man in a dark grey suit, with short white hair and a closely trimmed white beard, holding Toby upon his hip. Sarah gulped, taking in the sight of the man. He was as tall as Jareth, with a more bulky build that appeared to be solid muscle from the way he easily handled Toby. The man’s crystal eyes narrowed as he looked at Sarah and Jareth, arching an eyebrow in a way so characteristic of Jareth, that Sarah had the fleeting feeling she was looking at a future version of Jareth. Next to him stood a woman in a lavender Chanel suit, her lovely silver hair done up in an elegant twist that showed off her slender neck. Like the man’s, her lavender eyes were sternly glaring at the two of them.

Sarah’s stomach flipped, then dropped as she realized these must be Jareth’s parents -- and they had heard the fight. Gulping, she dropped her gaze, looking embarrassed, while Jareth just continued to look angry.

The silver-haired man gently put Toby on the ground and patted his head, “Why don’t you go up and play in your room for a bit, my boy. Once I’ve sorted out my son and your sister, I’ll be up and you can show me this pirate bed of yours.”

Toby nodded, looking adoringly up at the man, then hugging the woman around the waist. “See you later,” he chirped, then ran up to Jareth, hugging him around the waist as well. “Hi, Gareth!” Letting go of Jareth he ran toward the stairs.

“Hey twerp…what about me?” Sarah asked, suddenly feeling like an unwanted toy in a rummage sale.

Toby turned around, standing on the bottom step and frowned at her, his hands on his hips, looking for all the world like a miniature Jareth, with his wispy blonde hair standing out around his head. “You don’t get one. You’ve been mean to everyone and I’m mad at you,” he declared with a huff, then turned and ran up the stairs toward his room.

Sarah’s face fell further, as she tried to reconcile the fact that not only had Jareth’s parents, the High King and Queen of the Underground witnessed her angry words with Jareth, but her little brother had just chastised her in front of them – and rightly so.

“Now then, I realize you two are entitled to your ‘differences’ of opinion, but I hardly think it is seemly to voice them so loudly in the presence of the child,” said the man, looking from Sarah to Jareth.

Sarah was somewhat surprised to see that even Jareth now looked like a scolded child, and she fought the urge to giggle at the image of Jareth as a naughty child which sprang to mind.

“Indeed, Father. You are quite right. I do apologize,” Jareth said, his voice now quiet and even.

Biting her lip, Sarah gazed at the floor, muttering, “I’m sorry, Sire. I…we… didn’t know Toby would be downstairs. He’s usually in the garden with Nanny this time of day.”

The man gave a booming laugh, causing Sarah’s head to snap up in confusion. Smiling he shook his head, “No need for formal titles here, my dear. There will be plenty of time for that when you come for the Yule Ball,” he said, his crystal eyes wrinkling up into a broad smile.

“Sarah, meet my parents, Auberon and Titania,” Jareth said, smiling slightly at the look of utter shock that appeared on Sarah’s face at that admission. “Although, colloquially they are known as Oren and Ana Rex.”  Jareth moved forward to kiss his mother’s cheek. “Mother,” he said as she enveloped him in a hug, returning his kiss.

“Hello my darling,” she cooed, then released Jareth, her eyes on falling back upon Sarah.

Sarah swallowed hard, fighting the urge to run away, as the woman moved toward her. Reaching out, Titania gently cupped Sarah’s cheek, raising the girl’s face.

“Ahh…you’ve grown into a beautiful young woman, my dear,” the High Queen said, smiling at the confused look from Sarah. “Of course Jareth told us about you as soon as you won, dear girl. We were so sorry to hear about your parents’ passing. Oren… that is Auberon and I had the pleasure of meeting your father on more than one occasion and know how much he adored you and your brother,” she added, her pale eyes shining softly as she gazed at Sarah.

At the mention of her parents, Sarah’s heart clenched and a wave of cold slithered down her spine, a sob fighting its way to her throat. Seeing Sarah tense and frown, Titania gently curled her fingers under around Sarah’s chin, drawing her closer, then tenderly kissed the middle of Sarah’s forehead. There was a moment of tingling warmth at the site, then the warmth seemed to spread through her, easing the sense of sadness and loss until it was once more bearable. Smiling warmly, Jareth’s mother took Sarah’s hand and gently, but firmly, pulled her toward the formal lounge.

“Come my dear… and tell me what has you so upset,” Titania said, guiding the girl through the french doors of the parlor.

Following along helplessly in the wake of the High Queen, Sarah was quite sure the Queen’s words were more of an order than a request. As she was propelled past Jareth and his father, she gave them a pleading look, mutely begging them for help.

Auberon smiled and gave her a wink, “Best to just go along with her, my dear. It saves so much more trouble that way.”

“You too, Jareth dear,” his mother called, situating Sarah on the sofa and settling next to her.

Jareth frowned at his father, shaking his head as the elder man clapped him firmly on the shoulder. “You know your mother, my boy. She does as she pleases, particularly when there is relationship meddling to be done.”

Still scowling, Jareth followed his father into the parlor and settled gracefully into his preferred chair, while his father stood by the hearth, lighting his pipe and watching the scene with barely concealed amusement.

“Now Sarah dear, tell us what Jareth has done to upset you so?” Titania asked, noting the deep purple circles under Sarah’s eyes and her sallow complexion.

“What _I’ve_ done?!” Jareth interjected, looking like a sulking teen himself at the moment. “What about what _she’s_ done! Giving me the silent treatment all week without so much as a ‘You’re an ass, Jareth!’ or any other explanation and now she wants to go out tonight.”

“Fine…you’re an ass, Jareth. And I hate you. If it weren’t for Toby I’d be gone so fast from this damn place and _you_!” Sarah snapped, then gasped, clasping her hand over her mouth and looking terrified at Auberon and Titania. Before anyone could say anything, she burst into tears and fled from the parlor, the sound of her feet running up the stairs echoing into the room.

Jareth cringed, sinking lower into his chair as his father pinned him in place with a steely glare, his mother’s glare no less intimidating, even for the mighty Goblin King.

“What did you _do,_ boy?” demanded his father, his voice gravelly and stern.

“Damned if I know, Father. She’s been like this all week,” Jareth sighed, running his hand through his short Aboveground haircut, until it stood up wildly around his head. “That’s the most I’ve been able to get out of her since Sunday. If anything I thought she was opening up more to me…and more open to feeling something, then out of the blue she shut down and has been unaccountably angry with me ,” he said, his frustration giving way to an odd sense of sadness.

Titania and Auberon shared a quiet look, each able to both feel and smell the bitter aura of sadness that suddenly engulfed their son.

“She doesn’t look like she is sleeping well, darling. Did you notice the dark circles under her eyes? Humans are so fragile when they don’t get enough rest,” Titania mused thoughtfully.

“You haven’t tampered with her sleep have you, boy?” grumbled his father, giving him an accusatory glare.

Jareth’s eyes and jaw hardened and he growled, “No, Sire…unlike you, I prefer my lady to sleep unencumbered by my nocturnal machinations and I haven’t got a jack-assed minion like Puck around fucking things up.”

Oberon glowered back at Jareth, “Well something has obviously upset the girl and it clearly centers upon you.”

“Both of you…stop,” Titania ordered, frowning at the two men in her life and putting a stop to their pissing match before it came to blows. Both males both fell quiet, looking like guilty schoolboys, Jareth fidgeting with a crystal while Auberon fiddled with his pipe. “Jareth, darling… tell me what happened on Sunday…and don’t leave anything out,” she demanded, her pale purple eyes narrowing upon him, making him fidget more, adding a third crystal to the group swirling upon his fingertips.

Sighing, Jareth flicked two crystals into the air, letting them vanish as he let the remaining crystal dance over his hands. “Honestly, mother, there is not much to tell. I arrived back on Saturday to gift Sarah and her friend with the protection charms. She seemed perfectly content at that point, even her dreams after Rayvn’s interference was removed, were…well… they weren’t distressing, let’s just leave it at that,” he said. “Sarah would be horrified if anyone knew the details. As it is, I know the details and I shudder to think what her anger would be like if she knew that.”

His father nodded sympathetically and sat on the sofa next to Titania. “What then?” he asked, sucking on his pipe.

“Nothing really. She disobeyed and went into town on the Friday evening, and the two girls were late to a meeting with me on Saturday evening, so we had our usual accounting on Sunday night – I decided not to deal with it on Saturday since her friend was there,” Jareth said with a shrug.

“Oh Jareth…you didn’t punish her for both girls being late did you?” his mother asked, sighing in her disappointment when he nodded. “They are girls having a fun weekend, being a little late is to be expected.”

Jareth pursed his lips and growled, “It is the principle of the thing, mother. I don’t want her fighting me at every turn. It isn’t appropriate for a queen.”

Arching an eyebrow, Auberon glanced at Titania, who gave him a brief nod – both having caught Jareth’s slip of the tongue.

Glaring at his crystal as it spun across his hand, Jareth was oblivious to the shared communication of his parents. “So on Sunday she had her punishment for the infractions and handled it with grace. In fact, I was quite proud of her. Then Monday morning she started acting like…like… _this_ ,” he grumbled, gesturing toward the stairs in the hall.

“Something else had to have happened,” insisted his mother with a frown. “You’d have known if Rayvn had tampered with her dreams again, wouldn’t you?”

Jareth looked at his father and sighed when he saw no support from the elder king. “Of course, mother. And I checked her dreams, they were…” he said, then paused, his eyes narrowing upon the crystal in his hand.

“You’re hedging, my boy,” rumbled his father. “Out with it. What did you do?”

“Damnit Father! I didn’t do anything,” Jareth snapped, peevishly. “ The dream, it was hers. I don’t know how, but I dreamt it too. I won’t give you details, because Sarah would never forgive me. Let’s just say it was intimate, and she did not seem in the least bit put out by the spanking _or_ with me, in fact by the passion shown, I think it is safe to say that at that point she still liked both.”

His father glanced at him, an eyebrow raised in surprise, while his mother looked puzzled.

“Well, liking that sort of thing is not unusual for our kind; even for a changling and one so young as Sarah. Pleasures of the flesh and all that,” replied his mother, looking pensive. “The far more interesting issue is the shared dream. Are you sure you didn’t cause it, Jareth?”

“Will you _please_ stop accusing me of that?!” Jareth protested. “I’m trying to earn the girl’s favor, I will not risk it by doing such a thing. Why does everyone think so ill of me?”

Titania shook her head, smiling gently at her son, whose frustration was causing his usually impeccable control to slip, his glamour cracking to show the dark blue streaks that tipped his hair and the elegantly arched eyebrows that indicated his royal status.

“Jareth… your glamour,” she murmured, and nodded when he fixed himself with a wave of his hand. “Neither of us think ill of you, darling. We are just wondering how such a thing can happen, as the girl is unmarked by you, we would have known upon laying eyes on her if you were tied to each other.”

Jareth leaned his head against the back of his chair, starting at the ceiling. “I know, mother. That is the only answer that made sense, but that can’t be right. I’d know if she were marked, especially by me,” he sighed, letting the crystal roll unwatched over the planes and angles of his hands.

“I believe her hormones are in an uproar with the changing, so she is feeling things far more intensely,” Titania said, nodding to herself as she considered all that she had seen and heard.” If I had to guess, she is afraid of feeling things for you, and is using anger to mask them…forcing them back.”

“Why on Earth would she do that?” Jareth demanded, his brows knitting in frustration. “I’ve offered her everything.”

Smiling, Titania rose, then glided over to her son and gently brushed the wild wisps of hair back from his face. “Darling, she is a young woman…you yourself told us that she has rarely dated and even then, didn’t seem to enjoy the company of young men her own age. Now all of a sudden she’s confronted with a Fae King, who has control over her life, plus the hormonal storm of her changing. Most likely she is afraid of getting hurt…by _you_.”

“But, I told her I’d never strike her in anger,” Jareth protested, gazing up at his mother, his blue eyes seeming to plead with her to believe the truth in his words.

“My dear boy, there are more ways to strike at a woman and hurt her, than through physical force.”

With a deep sigh, Jareth leaned his cheek into his mothers soothing hand. “She turns my world upside down so easily,” he muttered. “I feel like a cad for getting angry with her. She’s confused. It’s to expected, I suppose.”

“Naturally,” agreed his father, as Titania turned and perched upon her husband’s knee.

“I’ll go talk to her,” Jareth said, rising from his chair and straightening his suit coat, only to pause as his father shook his head.

“No, I think it best that you let your mother handle this, my boy,” the High King replied, smiling adoringly at his wife. “If what she says is true, then Sarah will not want to discuss such things with you. Let’s us take your son outside and see how his lessons are coming along with that sword, and leave the hormonal wrangling of the teen girl to the woman who helped your sisters through it.”

Sighing, Jareth nodded. As much as it pained him to admit it, his father was right. This was something best left to the women in the family to sort out.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Sarah sniffled, burying her face into the pillows on her bed, the floral pillowcase now damp with tears. It was just too much and she wasn’t sure who she was most angry at – Jareth or herself. With fresh tears stinging her already red eyes, she felt her chest tightening up again and curled into a ball, tugging her grandmother’s quilt over herself as she started to sob once more, barely noticing the soft knock on the outer door to her rooms.

“Sarah dear…it’s Ana. May I come in?” called Jareth’s mother.

“Go away…” Sarah replied, then thought about who she was talking to and added, “Please.”

When the outer door opened, she groaned. “Please, I don’t want to talk about it,” she moaned, pulling the quilt up around her ears and trying desperately to lose herself in the familiar scent of her grandmother’s perfume. “Just let me sleep forever, or until I can get out of this house.”

She felt the bed dip near her and a gentle hand stroking the top of her head, the touch light and motherly.

“I know it is hard to be so confused, darling girl…and even harder to bear the burden alone. Every girl needs an older woman to turn to,” Titania said softly, her hand brushing loose waves from Sarah’s forehead. “It is times like these when a girl needs her mother.”

Sarah’s breath caught in her throat and her chest squeezed at her words, her shoulders shaking with the tears that poured down her cheeks.

“Come my dear,” she said, pulling the girl up into a warm hug.

Sniffling, Sarah pulled back a bit, while Titania stroked her head. “I can’t talk to you, you’re Jareth’s mother,” she protested with a despairing sob.

Titania gently brushed tears from Sarah’s cheeks, her lavender eyes tender. “I may be Jareth’s mother, but that doesn’t mean I would side with him, my dear. He’s been an ass…” she said.

Frowning, Sarah lowered her head, feeling her heart ache at Titania’s words, as the lie in them pricked her. “He hasn’t. Not really. It’s my fault…I guess,” she mumbled, then sniffed as a fresh wave of tears shimmered in her eyes. “I don’t know…I’m so confused.”

Jareth’s mother smiled softly and pulled the girl against her, hugging her close. “Oh Sarah, I know. I remember the confusion that comes when one is young and I’ve seen four girls of my own through the traumas and heartbreak of youth. I would hope you might come to think of me as your own surrogate mother, darling, and know that you aren’t alone. Not really.”

At that Sarah felt the loss of her parents and her confusion over Jareth hit her at once and dissolved into sobs, no longer worried about leaving tear stains upon Titania’s suit or the fact that she was Jareth’s own mother. For the moment, all that mattered was the gentle feeling of the hug and the fact that someone cared – she wasn’t alone.

Titania held the girl as she cried, letting Sarah’s feelings pour through the familial bond. Sadness. Despair. Confusion. Desire. Anger. _No wonder the poor girl is acting out_ – she thought, gently rocking Sarah and humming the same Fae lullaby she always sang to her own children when they were upset.

“That’s right, Sarah…just let it out,” she murmured softly. “It won’t help keeping all those feelings bottled up inside.”

“I…just…want it…all…to stop…It’s not fair,” Sarah sniffed after the most recent wave of emotion and tears had died down a bit. Sighing she found herself curling further into Titania’s embrace, drawing comfort from the soothing heartbeat of the other woman, and the soft smell of jasmine and vanilla that seemed to hang lightly on her skin.

“No, my darling girl, it isn’t. But such is life,” Titania said, gently pulling back and wiping away Sarah’s tears with a delicate handkerchief that appeared in her hand. Smiling warmly at Sarah, she caressed the girl’s cheek. “So, tell me what Jareth did and let’s see if we can’t fix things? Hmmm?”

At that Titania felt a wave of embarrassment from Sarah, the girls face flushing pink as she ducked her head down again. _Hmm…clearly the dream was more intimate than Jareth confessed_ – she chuckled to herself, pleased to have the confirmation that the girl was indeed affected by Jareth, and if the trickles of longing that were currently coming through the link were correct, she did have feelings for him. _I would bet my crown that the girl has feelings for Jareth, or is starting to and it is scaring her_ – she mused, turning her mind toward how to help the two children rectify things.

Sitting up again, Sarah kept her eyes on the faded quilt over her legs, her fingertip tracing the tiny stitches that ran in elegant designs over the printed material.

“It isn’t Jareth’s fault…” she muttered, feeling somewhat sheepish as she admitted this for the first time. “I’ve been acting like…well, a bitch to him all week. I didn’t know what else to do.”

Titania laughed softly, the sound chiming softly throughout the room. “Well, while I’m glad you are willing to admit that to me, even if you won’t to him – the fact remains that I’m quite sure that Jareth is culpable in this too,” she said. Seeing Sarah’s shamefaced look, she smiled. “However, unlike Jareth who is far older than you, he can deal with his own messes. You, my dear, are still young and need a bit of assistance in learning to deal with a Fae King, particularly one who is more like his father than either of them will admit.”

Nibbling her lip, Sarah considered this and smiled, thinking of the reputation Auberon had for manipulating things to his own ends.

“So, will you confide in me and let me help you try to fix things with Jareth…” Titania asked, noting the frown creasing Sarah’s forehead. “If you want them fixed, that is.”

Seeing Sarah’s look of relief, Titania frowned inwardly, wondering why the girl seemed so adverse to fixing things with Jareth.

“I want to stop feeling the way I do,” Sarah finally said, venturing a hesitant glance at Titania, the High Queen’s face giving nothing away. “Can you…I dunno… make me stop feeling things?”

Titania shook her head and gave the girl a quiet smile, “I’m afraid I can’t do that, my dear, as that would break the laws for dealing with humans, Fae and other races.”

“Oh,” Sarah sighed, her face falling, as her shoulders slumped.

Watching the girl, Titania pondered how to help the girl, while not derailing a relationship which seemed to be an act of the Fates. In his whole life, she had never seen Jareth so smitten with a girl as he was with Sarah. While he didn’t know it, his mother had felt the call to take the child, and observed the way her son interacted with the runner, amused and perplexed by the way he inserted himself into her run in ways that he had never done with any other runner – including those running as a Queen Challenger for the Goblin Kingdom throne. When Sarah had returned to his life as his ward, she had cautioned him to be gentle with the girl and clearly the boy hadn’t listened. _He is so like his father that way_ – she sighed.

Titania’s lavender eyes sparkled brightly as the threads of a plan began to form, one which would hopefully give the girl a brief reprieve, while ultimately furthering the Fates’ plan.

 _I hope you can forgive me, my son_ – she thought, even as she began to council the girl in how to combat unwanted feelings of the heart. _Nothing worth having comes without a price, even if that price is a temporarily broken heart._

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Jareth silently peered into the amber depths of his glass, trying to tune out the steady ticking of the clock above the hearth. The last thing he wanted was his parents meddling in his dealings with Sarah, but within an hour of meeting the blasted girl, that was exactly what they had done. They had promised not to interfere in his discipline, then his mother had gone behind his back and told Sarah she could go to the movies with her friend, even after he had told the girl no.

Sighing he shook his head, his blue eyes troubled. At that point what could he do? While he was the head of his branch of the family, his mother had given her permission and he would have been a beast to resend it, as it would definitely have led to another fight. For her part, Sarah had seemed reluctant to accept the permission, even going so far as to remind his parents that Jareth had earlier told her no and _he_ was her guardian. In the end, it did no good. His mother had insisted. His father had fixed him with a steely glare. And Jareth had no choice – he agreed.

While he and his parents dined, Louis had driven Sarah back to the academy so that she could prepare for her night out with her friend Angel.

“You can go to the movie, but you must be home by midnight,” he had said, then added, “By 1,” when his father shot him a scathing look.

Sarah had given him an almost bashful smile and nodded, clutching a bag in her hand. “By 1 at the latest. I promise,” she said, then turned and bounced down the front stairs to the waiting car, looking happier than she had all week long.

Glancing at the clock, Jareth frowned. Five minutes to one. She was cutting it close.

He fought the urge to use a crystal and see where she was, his teeth clenching as his mother and father walked into the formal parlor, wrapped in their robes and carrying large steaming mugs of vanilla milk. His mother paused and patted his shoulder, before settling on the sofa next to her husband.

“Relax, Jareth. It is just a movie,” she said with a gentle smile. “The girl needs some space to figure out her feelings and you must give her that space to grow.”

Jareth felt a frustrated rumble build in his chest, his blue eyes narrowing in irritation at his mother’s meddling. “If you give me the whole ‘if you love something set it free’ argument, I will…” he grumbled.

“You’ll _what_ , boy?” growled his father, steely blue eyes locking sternly with a matching set of crystal blue.

The younger king let the thought die, as Titania sighed, shaking her head at her son and husband. She opened her mouth to speak just as a car pulled up out front, then snapped it shut, her pale eyes locked on the empty space in the front hall.

Three pairs of eyes glanced at the clock above the hearth. Two minutes to one – Sarah was back on time. Close, but still on time. The front door opened a few moments later, the sound of happy humming  and snatches of singing filling the entry hall, accompanied by the sound of heels on the parquet floor. They could hear the footsteps walking toward the stairs, then as she moved past the double doors of the parlor, the three royals were able to finally see Sarah.

Sarah was happily oblivious to the fact that she had an audience, until she heard a soft giggle, an amused throat-clearing and an enraged snarl.

“What the Hell are you wearing?!” Jareth demanded, his eyes dark as he scowled at her, taking in the shockingly purple-pink hair, the horrifically dark and garish makeup and the all-together too short and skimpy black satin ‘french-maid’ dress. Over the dress she wore a shiny black patent corset, the tops of her breasts threatening to spill over the top of it. On her legs she had torn fishnet stockings, with black stiletto heels upon her feet, making her legs look longer and more shapely. Shaking his head, Jareth pushed the unbidden thought from his mind.  He was not a sheltered being in any way, as he had grown up both Above and Underground, yet this look on his Sarah made him feel physically ill.

Gasping, Sarah cringed, her jade eyes wide when she saw not only Jareth staring at her, but Auberon and Titania as well. Her cheeks flushed pink as she gulped, trying to act nonchalant, when all the while she knew she had intentionally misled Titania about the nature of the movie she and Angel were going to see.

“It’s a costume, Jareth. When people go see ‘Rocky Horror’ they dress up as characters from the film. That is part of the fun of it,” she replied, stiffening her back and meeting his angry glare.

“I am _quite_ aware of the cult status of that particular film,” Jareth hissed, then glowered angrily at his mother. “Did you know _this_ was the film she was going to see?”

Silently Titania shook her head, her mug of steamed milk now forgotten in her hand.

Glaring at Sarah again, Jareth growled, “I do not understand what possessed you to think that this sort of clothing would be allowed, Sarah.”

Sarah’s green eyes narrowed and her jaw tightened in reaction to his words. “You may control most of my life, but my body is still mine, Jareth! If I want to dress up and go out with my friends, you can’t stop me.”

“You bloody watch me!” he snapped, a crystal spinning into existence on his fingers, a split-second before he launched it at her. As the bubble burst against her stomach, the sickening costume disappeared, leaving her wearing one of the long, nightgowns of fine linen from her closet, with her soft brocade robe cinched tightly over it.

Blinking in surprise, Sarah gasped, then stepped forward, into Jareth’s space, her arms crossed over her chest.

“What right do you have to do that?!” she demanded, knowing without needing to look in a mirror that her hair was now clean and smooth down her back, while her face was scrubbed free of every smear of make-up.

“ _You_ gave me the right, Sarah. Now go to bed. We’ll discuss your punishment tomorrow night,” he snarled, his blue eyes flashing in rage, as he tried to calm his anger over the fact that she had been parading around town dressed like that. Calming his anger was proving even more difficult as wave after wave of anger and desire washed over him from Sarah, along with another scent he couldn’t quite make out.

“No we won’t, Jareth,” she said, a shrewd smirk curling the corners of her mouth. “Nowhere in your _rules_ did you say I couldn’t wear that style of clothing. And by your own design, you swore you would _never_ punish me without _just_ cause.”

Jareth’s breathing was loud in his ears as he felt his anger burn through his veins. “You _knew_ I would not approve. That is why you didn’t tell the _Queen_ what movie you were seeing.” Seeing Sarah did not protest, he knew he was right. “ _That_ is a lie of omission, Sarah.”

“It was just a movie,” Sarah countered, flinching inwardly at how weak that argument was.

That was when Jareth finally recognized the unfamiliar scent – it was aftershave, and one that did not match his own.

“You were on…a _date_ ,” he said, his tone suddenly calm and icy, the sound making Sarah shiver. “I have forbidden you to date without express permission, Sarah. Or did you _conveniently_ forget that?”

Swallowing, she stepped back as the air around she and Jareth seemed to drop 10 degrees.

“No…I…no. I wasn’t,” she said, trying desperately to hang onto her anger in the face of the cold fury that poured off Jareth. “A bunch of kids from school were at the movie. We sat with them. And…yeah…there were guys in the group.”

“Bed. Now. Sarah,” he ordered, his tone firm and unyielding, as he gave her a cold look.

Seeing the icy look in his eyes, Sarah turned and fled for her room. As soon as she was gone, Jareth turned on his parents and hissed, “Not. One. Word!”

Then without another word to them, Jareth vanished in a haze of glitter.

Looking down at his wife as she sat tucked against his side, Auberon sighed. “Well, my darling wife… that could not have gone worse.”

Titania nodded and looked thoughtful. “True, my love. But as the colonists say, ‘you have to break some eggs to make a cake’. On the whole, I’d say things are going to plan.”

Auberon frowned and kissed his wife’s temple. “I do hope you know what you are doing, Titania dear.”

 _So do I_ – she thought to herself, as the last of the glitter from Jareth’s furious departure softly floated onto the carpet.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

 

 


	16. Fire in the Blood

Heat. So much heat. It felt as if she were engulfed in flames which slid into her blood, coursing through her veins until she would surely combust from the inside out. Sarah arched her back at the feel of slick sweat running up between her breasts, to pool at the base of her throat. She could feel the warm wetness, coating her body, heated drips rolling around her legs, teasing at the back of her knees. Moaning, she writhed, her fingers gripping the sheets beneath her, as heated drops, thick and slippery, slid from within her, coating her most intimate places. With a quite sob her back arched as if her body were seeking any bit of cool air it could find, only to strike against a firm chest, the hard planes coated in a sheen of heated sweat like her own.

A tortured sob broke from her throat, her jade eyes opening to find Jareth above her, his upper body propped upon his hands on either side of her head, her own hands trapped in his. She could feel his hips nestled between hers, the firm length of him burning her from the inside out, as he was sheathed within her own heat. Sarah whimpered wanting both to wrap her legs around him and draw him deeper, and to shove him away to escape the overpowering heat that poured from him.

“No…no…stop…it’s too…much,” she gasped, her head rolling from side to side.

Jareth groaned, his eyes falling shut at the feel of her clenching tight around him, her body holding on to him. “The heat… Gods Sarah, you’re burning me,” he panted, his hips giving a slow rock against hers in a move that sent a jolt of pleasure and heat through him, taking his breath away.

Sarah mewled, her head thrown back as she wrapped a leg over his hip, her own hips driving up hard toward him, until he could feel himself strike as deep within her as he could, the two of them gasping at the sensation of pleasured pain.

“No…you’re…God…too hot…Jareth…stop,” Sarah murmured, then gasped as a burning drop of sweat dripped from Jareth’s chin onto her breast, seeming to sear a line over her flesh when it rolled toward her neck. “Harder,” she gasped, her hands held tight in his while she struggled to reach him, wanting to push him off her. Wanting him deeper. Wanting him closer. Wanting to touch…to scratch…to bite…to kiss him, in the burning frenzy that seemed to erupt in her blood.

Gasping at the feeling of her velvet walls pulsing around him and sucking him deeper still, Jareth felt the fire burn up his spine, an ethereal roar rumbling forth from his chest as he held her down, his body thrusting into hers harder and faster. “Sarah…stop… you’re…too hot…too much…heat…Gods,” he groaned, even as he was powerless to force himself away from her burning flesh.

Their joined bodies continued to push and pull against each other, clenching and driving, all the while the heat around them and through them the inferno burned. Growling, Jareth dipped his head, his lips covering hers in a heated kiss that seared with the intensity of their combined passion. Even as he kissed her, feeling the heat of her scorching him inside and out, his own senses overwhelmed by the cascade of utter ‘want’ that consumed him, a tiny niggle of worry prodded from deep within his mind.

 _This isn’t right. Burning. She’s too hot. I’m too hot. Heat. Fire. This isn’t real. It can’t be. Something’s wrong. Heat. Heat. Too much burning. What’s wrong_ – the small voice whispered, fighting desperately through the ferocious sense of lust and passion that engulfed him.

The worries of the tiny voice broke through into the forefront of his mind, yet he could not heed them. A sudden burst of fear coursed through him at the realization that something was seriously wrong, but try as he might to pull away from Sarah he could not -- his body would not obey.

“Sarah…love… it’s *Oh Gods* it’s your… _dream_ ,” he panted, sweat rolling freely down his chest, smearing between their thrusting bodies. “You _have_ … to wake…up…”

“No…no… too much…heat…but…I want…,” Sarah gasped, her body pushing back harder and faster against his own, the pleasure building in a tight ball of searing heat within her. “Oh God…Jareth…please…I neeeeeeed….” she begged, the words dying on her lips as she moaned.

Hearing her pleading with him, his own body responded almost violently, a twisting ache pulling sharply in his groin. Jareth growled, feeling the feral need in his own blood, burning him with a desire to fill her thoroughly. All the while the voice in the back of his mind howled it’s warning, struggling to get through before it was too late.

 _This can’t happen! Too dangerous. You’ll lose them both. Sarah. The babe. Your babe. Stop. Stop. STOP!_ – the voice shrieked.

“Sarah…love…you must… wake…up…” he begged, even as his body continued to pound into her, seeking their joined release. “Must… get…out…wake up…wake up….Oh Gods…Precious…please…wake up!” he panted, the aching inside him tugging at him, pulling him to the precipice of the ultimate release, the point of no return.

Roaring, Jareth drew forth every bit of willpower he had and pulled back from her heated walls, every cell in his body demanding that he slam into her once more. _MATE!_ – he felt his body and mind howl as one. Sarah’s body clamped tightly around him, desperately trying to hang onto him, only to have him slip from within her, the sensation met with a pained and angry scream from Sarah.

“No!!!!!!! Please!!! Jareth….I…I…heat…oh God…I need,” she sobbed freely now, struggling beneath him as tears streamed down her cheeks.

“I’ve got you…love…” he gasped, fighting his baser instincts to drive into her, seeding her, her very body crying out for his own, while his own demanded to meet the need of hers. Forcing the feeling aside, his entire body tense from being on the edge of his own release, he let his sweat drenched body slide down hers, then buried his tongue within her, sucking hard as he thrust it repeatedly into her, even as she shrieked and shuddered violently under his touch, screaming his name.

And all around them, the fires of Hell consumed them both.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Jareth awoke with a burning sensation across every inch of his body. He looked frantically around, sure that his room must be consumed by flames, only to find himself in his bed at the manor, the blankets and sheets askew, and his pajama pants dripping with sweat and stuck to his legs. Groaning he tried to rise, but could only roll to the side, then fall to the floor on his knees as the burning sensation gave way to intense heat that made him gasp, his blood seeming to boil its way through his veins.

“Must… cool…down…” he moaned, his body bathed in sweat as yet more coated him, leaving him feeling disheveled and filthy, his usually wispy hair plastered slickly to his scalp.

Trying once more to stand, Jareth grabbed the nightstand and pulled himself to his knees, before a wave of fiery pressure inside his skin knocked him to the floor once more. He felt the world spin, as searing heat seemed to consume him, his only thought to find relief. Slowly he pulled his body across the carpet, his eyes glued to the tiles of the bathroom floor and the blessed relief he would get from them. His mind was too focused on finding relief from the unrelenting heat, to even consider how he came to be in such a state. Each movement was an agony of scorching heat and blistering pain. When he reached the tiles, he nearly sobbed, dropping his bare chest to them and groaning, sure he would hear sizzling as his heated flesh contacted the cool tile. Yet the tiles brought no relief, his body seeming to heat them as he lay there panting and writhing.

Sobbing in earnest now, Jareth pulled himself toward the shower, gritting his teeth as he willed himself to his knees to reach the buttons that would trigger the cooling spray, only to have another wave of intense, searing heat wash over him. With a cry he fell, half in and half out of the shower recess. Gasping for air that felt like it was scalding his airways, he clawed uselessly at his bare chest.

Feeling his body begin to slip toward unconsciousness, Jareth drew deep upon the last vestiges of his control and pulled a crystal from the air.

“Must…get…help…burning…up,” he panted, his parched lips cracking with the effort.

Before he could set the spell and send for help, a crushing wave of heat bore down on him, making his body shudder violently against the tiles of the shower. Then, the mighty Goblin King felt no more, as the sweet relief of oblivion took him. As his hand fell limp upon the tiles, the crystal fell from it and rolled slowly across the tiles, until it came to rest at the edge of the bathroom door, shimmering slightly before it burst, leaving the still body of Jareth alone on the floor of the bathroom.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

With a gasp, Titania sat up in bed, her silver hair falling in a long plait down her back as she peered around the bedroom. The sumptuously furnished room appeared as it should, shades of dusky blue and gold accenting the deep honey colored wood of the furniture. Slowly she looked toward the window, seeing that Auberon had drawn the heavy velvet curtains, blocking out the light of the moon overhead, so that the only light in the room came from his bedside lamp which cast a gentle golden glow on his side of the bed. Titania glanced warily at Auberon who was sitting up next to her in bed, a leather-bound book in his hands and a pair of half-glasses perched on the end of his nose. Frowning, she tried to understand why she woke so suddenly. There was something she couldn’t seem to remember. Then she felt it again, a burning sensation that rolled down her spine with such heat that it took her breath away.

“I feel it too,” her husband said, his voice low and gravelly, as he put his book down in his lap. Pursing his lips, he tilted his head, peering around the room over the top of his glasses.

“It must be one of the children,” she said, leaning over and turning on her bedside light. “But what is it? It isn’t the usual emotional link.”

Looking at her husband, she noted that his blue eyes were almost grey, a sign that he was concentrating upon something important. She could sense him as his magic felt along the familial link, checking on his children, while Titania did the same. Carefully she followed the family threads from the youngest child to the eldest. Exhaustion from Liana, but that was to be expected as she had triplets who had just started to walk and were driving their mother, two nursemaids and a nanny to distraction. Relaxation from Philliene and Bronwyn. And frustration from Arwyn, which made sense given that she had been having problems with her husband, the King of Dwarves.

Four girls. All accounted for. Only one child was missing.

As one Titania and Auberon turned toward the other, lavender eyes meeting grey, worry etched in both.

“Jareth…where is Jareth?!” Titania asked, her delicate hand grasping Auberon’s arm.

“I’m sure the boy is fine, my love,” Auberon said, gently patting her hand and trying to reassure his wife. “He is probably in an oubliette or something, attempting to work out his anger at the girl.”

Unconvinced, Titania called a shimmering purple crystal to her fingertips, then flicked it into the air, sending it to her son. The two royals waited several tense minutes, for the crystal to return, while cursing the fact that once their children reached the age of majority in the Underground, they lost the ability to scry for them. When five minutes passed and Jareth had not returned the communication crystal, Titania swept the covers back from her body and swiftly tugged her robe on, pulling the tie closed with an almost vicious tug.

“I’ll check his rooms in the manor. You…” she said, already heading for the door.

“…check the Goblin Castle,” Auberon replied, cutting her off. “If you find him…”

“I’ll let you know,” Titania finished for him, the doors flying open for her before she even reached them.

She heard the faint chiming as Auberon vanished, her own footsteps nearly silent upon the plush carpet of the halls. Within a moment she stood before his rooms, knocking sharply on the door, “Jareth!” she called.  When there was no answer she tried the door, finding it locked. Growling softly to herself, she tapped her finger upon the doorknob and was rewarded with a dull clicking sound as the lock slid free. Entering her son’s sitting room, she peered around, looking for any sign of trouble. Everything was as it should be, the room neat and tidy, with every item in its place, as was Jareth’s habit when away from the Goblin Castle.

Her heart hammered in her chest, as she ventured toward his bedroom. The door was ajar, but she couldn’t see anything more than a thin strip of the room. Breathing deep to calm her nerves, Titania pushed the bedroom door open and gasped. The first thing she saw was the rumpled bed, with the covers strewn across the floor, leading to the bathroom. Looking toward the bathroom, she saw a naked form lying partly in the shower recess.

As she ran toward Jareth, she screamed, “Auberon!”

In an instant her husband joined her, “What in the seven Hells?” he gasped, seeing his wife cradling their son’s body, while Jareth’s head and arms lolled limply against her. Titania looked up at him, her lavender eyes pleading with him to do something. Without a thought he flipped a deep blue crystal into the air, where it vanished with a faint popping noise, then bent low, scooping the limp body of his son from Titania’s arms.

“He’s roasting, Auberon,” she moaned, a gentle hand caressing Jareth’s cheek as his head fell back, the fine blonde strands of hair dangling over his father’s arm. “What does it mean?”

Auberon simply shook his head, his pale eyes narrowing in fear for the life of his only son and heir to his throne. “I don’t know, darling. I’ve sent for Maeve. In the meantime, wet some towels and bring them to the bedroom,” he said quietly, then carried Jareth into the bedroom and gently laid him upon the bed.

With a wave of Auberon’s hand, the bed linens had been refreshed, a thin sheet draped lightly over Jareth’s still form. He felt the fear inside him intensify as he watched the sweat that rolled freely over his son’s body, quickly forming wet patches upon the sheets under him. Titania bustled in a moment later with towels dripping with cold water, heedless of the way the wet towels seeped through her own nightclothes. Turning, Auberon snatched two towels from her and began to spread them over Jareth’s body, while Titania wrapped one around the top of their son’s head. He watched helplessly as Titania stifled a soft sob, and gently wiped Jareth’s face with a cold, wet cloth.

“We’ll fix this, love,” he murmured, laying his hand on her shoulder.

“He’s not moving, Auberon,” she whispered. “I can’t feel him…it’s like he isn’t even there anymore. Not connected to us.”

Auberon’s jaw tightened as he fought down the fear that threatened him. High King he may be, but no matter what happened, his children were his greatest gifts, to lose even one of them… just didn’t bear thinking of.

“We’ll fix it…” he repeated, more firmly this time, unsure who he was really trying to convince – his wife or himself.

 A tinkling sound chimed in the bedroom as Maeve appeared, her deep purple robes swirling on an ethereal wind. With a popping sound a small gnomish woman materialized behind her, holding a leather bag to the breast of her pink robes, thick blue braids wound around her head. Both women bowed low, all the while Maeve’s eyes were swiftly taking in the scene before her.

“How did you find him?” she asked brusquely, rising before she and her assistant were even acknowledged by the royals. Moving toward the bed, she wasted no time in beginning her examination of the Crown Prince, her silver eyes narrowing in concentration and concern.

“He was on the floor of his bathroom, nude,” Auberon said gruffly, not taking his eyes from his son’s face, while Titania continued to tenderly wipe Jareth’s brow with cold water from a bowl by the bed.

“Maeve, he’s burning up,” Titania added, her voice cracking with tears.

Auberon gently patted her shoulder. “Steady on, love,” he murmured.

Nodding, Maeve turned to her assistant and began to dig through her bag, laying out several vials and instruments. With a thoughtful expression she reached over and checked his eyes. “Hmm…both pupils are fully dilated, unusual for Jareth,” she mused, her assistant rapidly scribbling in her small book. Despite her own fear for the Crown Prince, her hands were steady as she examined him further. “His heart is beating well,” she said to her assistant, who noted that down. “Has he said or done anything since you found him?” she asked the High King and Queen, looking pensive when they both shook their heads. Without warning she clapped her hands loudly next to Jareth’s ear, the Crown Prince unresponsive to the sharp sound.

“Fae don’t get fevers,” she muttered to herself, picking up a small crystal vial of pulsing green liquid. “Except for changelings, but…I was there for this one’s birth. He’s no changenling,” she murmured as she continued to talk to herself. She gently pinched Jareth’s jaw, opening his mouth then tipped the green liquid between his lips, before rubbing his throat until he swallowed reflexively. “We need to give that medicine a few minutes to work. There are humans in this house. I don’t suppose somewhere is one of those temperature gauges that human doctors use? Thermometer or something like that?”

Titania nodded, “Yes…Mrs. Brown or the nanny would have one.” Glancing at her husband, she was relieved when he merely kissed her forehead,then disappeared from the room.

In his absence, Maeve and Titania kept watch over the still form of Jareth. After several minutes, he began to moan, thrashing on the bed as a fresh wave of sweat broke out over his body, drenching him in moments.

“What is it?” asked the High Queen, mopping Jareth’s brow again, then tenderly pushing wet hair back from his forehead.

“I don’t know, your Majesty,” Maeve admitted with a cranky glare at the young prince. “But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let this young pup stump me!” Looking at her assistant she snapped, “Molly… pop back to my house and get me the red bag on the top shelf of my workshop. And grab a jar of dragonsbane tea while you’re there.”

Molly gave a little nod, curtseyed to Titania, then vanished in a puff of pink smoke.

“Best settle in, Majesty…this is likely to be a long night,” she sighed, her mind ticking over what could possibly cause such symptoms in the Crown Prince, and regrettably coming up blank.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

At 10 in the morning, Mrs. Brown tapped on the outer door to Sarah’s suite, then pushed the door open. Hearing the shower going, she smiled, glad that the girl was up and about. Still smiling to herself, she set the tray with tea and crumpets on the coffee table and went to the large windows overlooking the garden, pulling the curtains back to let in the mid-morning sunlight. She was worried about Mr. Rex, after Mr. Rex senior had shown up at her door in the middle of the night asking for a thermometer, but when she spoke to Ana at 6 this morning, Mrs. Rex had assured her that Gareth was doing fine and that his personal physician was already at the house. Given the situation, it made since that Mrs. Rex had asked her to keep the children away from the family wing for the day, in order to give Gareth silence to recover from his illness. The kind woman even asked her to leave Sarah to sleep late since the girl got home late from the movies.

“It’s going to be a quiet day for you and little Toby, my dear,” she called as she tidied up the room, happy that the girl was reasonably neat on her own. “Mr. Rex is ill and his mother has asked that you two stay on the lower level or in your rooms for the day.”

Humming she continued to pick up items around the room, until she had an armful of shoes, scarves and jackets to put away. “Sarah dear, I’m going to tidy your wardrobe a bit while you finish showering,” she called through the partially open bedroom door, then nudged it open and headed into the closet while examining a pull on one of Sarah’s scarves. “I’ll fix this scarf today too, dear. By the way, did you have fun at the movies last night?”

By the time she had finished putting the garments away, Sarah had still not answered her and the shower was still going. Frowning slightly, Mrs. Brown called out, “Sarah… are you okay dear?” as she walked out of the closet and glanced for the first time toward the bathroom door, only to shriek a moment later.

“SARAH!” she screamed, her eyes wide in fear at seeing the girl sprawled partially in her shower, the water beating down on her torso and head. Her nightgown was soaked through, a large puddle around her on the tiled floor.

Rushing into the bathroom she turned off the water, as Toby came into the room, sucking his thumb and looking upset. “What’s…wrong…Where’s Sarah…” he mumbled around his thumb, as Mrs. Brown hopped up and shooed him from the room.

“Toby dear…be a good boy and go find tell Louis I need him. Hurry, dear!” she said, nudging him toward the door, then ran back to Sarah’s limp body. “Oh please God… Sarah…what’s happened?” she gasped, her fingers pressing against Sarah’s throat. Finding a weak pulse she sighed in relief, then frowned, laying her hand against the girl’s burning cheek, then touching her arm. “Dear God! You’re burning up, Sarah,” she murmured.

Not moving from the floor near Sarah, the housekeeper tugged open a drawer, rummaging around in it until she found what she was looking for, then slamming it shut, a thermometer clutched in her hand. She gently lifted Sarah’s wet head and slipped the tip of the thermometer into the girl’s ear, gasping when it started to flash red and beep frantically.

106.8.

Throwing back her head, she screamed for Louis. A moment later she heard Louis’s heavy footsteps lumbering down the hall, followed by a soft scream from Mrs. Rex.

“Sarah! What’s happened?!” she demanded as Louis bent to pick Sarah up.

Mrs. Brown hopped up and rushed through the bedroom to the lounge, grabbing the phone, “She’s got a fever over 106. We have to get her to the hospital…quickly,” she replied, picking up the phone and starting to dial.

Titania’s eyes went wide as she shook her head at Louis, pointing at Sarah’s bed. The gentle man laid Sarah on her bed, his wide eyes sad, as he awkwardly petted her cheek.

“Sarah,” he whispered, his lower lip trembling a bit.

“Don’t bother with the ambulance,” Mrs. Rex ordered, taking the phone from Mrs. Brown and hanging it up. “Louis, go fetch Gareth’s doctor. She’s in his rooms with my husband.”

Louis nodded silently and left the room, moving with surprising speed for someone so large.

“But Madame…” Mrs. Brown protested. “A fever that high could kill her… or cause permanent damage to her brain. We _have_ to get it down.”

Mrs. Rex nodded, her lavender eyes taking in the sight of Sarah, drenched in water and the sour smell of sweat, her nightgown clinging to her body. “Go wet some towels with cold water and bring them here,” she instructed the housekeeper, who opened her mouth to protest again, then shut it, rushing into the bathroom and running water on several towels.

“By the Gods,” murmured Titania, sitting gently on the bed next to Sarah. “What’s going on?”

When Mrs. Brown returned with the towels, Titania took them, spreading them over Sarah’s body. “Go take care of Toby, Tess,” she said to the housekeeper. “The doctor is here and we’ll take care of Sarah. This may be contagious and I don’t want Toby exposed to his sister.”

The housekeeper’s eyes widened at this and she nodded, trotting from the room to intercept the little boy before he returned looking for his sister. A moment after she left, Maeve appeared in the room, clothed in a simple black dress, as favored by women in the Above.

“Maeve… they both have it,” Titania murmured, her heart breaking at the thought of losing both her son and the girl she would have as her daughter-in-law. “Fae don’t get contagious diseases like humans do. What is causing it?”

A cranky frown creased Maeves wrinkled face as she quickly examined the girl, shaking her head while she moved her hands over the girl’s body. “If I didn’t know better I’d swear it was bonding sickness, but neither of them is marked – by each other or anyone else,” she finally said, glancing at the worried queen. “I’d like to examine the two of them together.”

Nodding, the queen waved her hand over Sarah’s still form, drying her body and changing her into a fresh nightgown. “I’ll move her to Jareth’s room,” she sighed, taking the girl’s hand in her own and giving it a gentle squeeze. “Hold on, Sarah darling,” she whispered. Then with a faint chiming sound, the High Queen and the young changeling vanished, followed immediately by the old crone.

The three of them reappeared in Jareth’s room, to find Auberon pacing by the bed. He blinked in surprise as they materialized, with Sarah silent as the grave on the bed next to Jareth.

“Sarah too?” he asked, fighting the wave of terror that gripped his heart when his wife nodded, her pale eyes filled with tears.

A feral snarl filled the air, and three sets of eyes turned toward the couple laying on the bed. While both had been still and silent before, the moment they were placed in close proximity to each other, Jareth and Sarah started to react. Jareth’s jaw was clenched so tightly, his mother feared he’d crack his teeth with the force of their grinding, a vicious growl rumbling in his chest. Next to him, Sarah started to moan and cry out wordlessly, her body thrashing against the bed. Both of them began to claw at their chests, Sarah tearing her nightdress, while Jareth tore gouges down his chest, until crimson drops flowed over his skin. Wave after wave of sweat drenched their bodies, the sour stench combined with an almost overwhelming cloud of anger and lust that scented the air – one sweet, the other bitter.

Maeve wrinkled her nose, looking at the two royals, who were clearly as confused as she was. In the next instant Jareth and Sarah cried out in agony, their backs arching so stiffly it appeared as if they were trying to bend in half. Titania, Maeve and Auberon watched in horror as Sarah and Jareth’s eyes snapped open, staring blankly at the ceiling while they moaned and snarled. Seeing their eyes, Titania gasped in shock – both sets of eyes were now deep red with cloudy white, fully dilated pupils.

“Dear Gods!” Maeve exclaimed, while Auberon hugged his queen to his chest, her delicate hands clinging to his shirt as she buried her face against him.

Then just as sudden as they arched, the couple before them on the bed fell limp and silent, but the silent reprieve was short-lived. Sarah and Jareth began to thrash violently on the bed, clawing at their bodies until any exposed flesh was covered with deep scratches.

“Restrain them!” Auberon ordered, releasing his wife and rushing toward the bed. Despite his great strength, he struggled to even grasp Jareth’s wrists, unable to keep his beloved son from further injuring himself.

Pulling two dark purple crystals from the air, Titania muttered quietly, then dropped one crystal on each of the writhing bodies, creating a shimmering crystal shield around them. Yet still they screamed, growled and clawed at their bodies.

Maeve dodged Sarah’s thrashing arms, snapping at Auberon, “Hold her head!”

Without a word, Auberon reached over and gripped the girl’s head firmly in his large hands, all the while her body shook and spasmed. As he was forced to squeeze her head tightly to hold her still, he prayed to the Gods that he wouldn’t hurt the poor girl any more than this mystery illness was.

Quickly Maeve shoved the thermometer into the girl’s ear, soon rewarded by rapid red flashing lights and a loud beeping. “Blast, it’s gone higher! 109,” she cried out, then looked at Auberon. “Quick. Take him to the Crystal Palace!”

Auberon didn’t respond. He merely hugged his son close and vanished, while Titania collapsed onto the chair at the side of the bed and sobbed.

Maeve watched the girl, feeling her own heart start to relax as the girl began to grow calm, the smell of anger fading from the room. While the scent of desire eased somewhat, it still clung to the air around Sarah. Slowly the girl settled back onto the bed, her linen nightgown now stained with streaks of blood and stuck to her skin with a thick layer of sweat. Maeve leaned over her and tested her temperature again, relieved that it had dropped back to 104.

“It is still high, but at least it is lower,” she said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a small blue bottle. She poured some crimson liquid into a small glass, then added a bit of water and stirred it. When the liquid changed to purple, she tilted Sarah’s head back and carefully poured the purple fluid down the girls throat, pleased when she swallowed, then moaned.

“So…hot…it hurts,” Sarah whimpered, her lips dry and cracked.

Smiling gently at the girl, Maeve patted her hand, holding a glass of cool water to her lips and letting her have a small sip, “I know it does, girl. Just relax and let Maeve do what she can, yeah?”

Sarah seemed to go calmer still, her breathing becoming less labored and more even. As the two women watched over her, the red flush of the fever slowly faded from her skin. Patting her cheek a moment longer, Maeve sighed deeply, then sunk into a chair by the bed, looking across at the High Queen as she held the now sleeping girl’s hand.

“Well, I’ve done what I can for now. That sleeping draught should let her rest and has herbs in it to combat the fever,” she said.

The mirror over Jareth’s dresser flickered, like waves upon a still lake, then Auberon’s image appeared in it, his expression grave.

“Well, Jareth calmed when we got him here,” he reported, running a hand through his white hair. “How is Sarah?”

“She’s sleeping now. Maeve gave her something to help her rest and ease the fever,” Titania said quietly, still holding Sarah’s hand. “The fever is still here, but a bit lower now that Jareth has gone.”

Auberon shook his head, “So… any idea why putting the two of them together set off the fevers? It will be weeks before I get the stench of rage and lust out of my beard,” he added, wrinkling up his nose.

Titana felt her heart clench as she looked at the almost lifeless body of Sarah. It _wasn’t supposed to be like this_ – she thought.

“Any idea what is causing this, Maeve?” Auberon asked, feeling his wife’s pain through the familial link.

The old crone narrowed her eyes as she looked at the girl on the bed before her, then at the still form of the Crown Prince visible through the mirror. “I have a theory…. And it is just that… an idea,” she said, bracing herself for the reaction she was likely to get from the royals. “I think Sarah has come into her first l’hrev cycle…” she began.

“That doesn’t explain why Jareth would respond so violently,” Auberon said, frowning as he looked over his shoulder at his son. “They don’t have a bond or else we’d know it.”

“They did share a dream,” Titania added, glancing hopefully at Maeve who raised an eyebrow in surprise at that tidbit of information.

Maeve nodded thoughtfully. “It would be quite extraordinary to have that link, without a mark or established bond. I’ve only seen it once in a couple that was born at the exact same time and pair-bonded during their first l’hrev cycle,” she said. “I suspect, that whether we can see it or not, these two have a bond of some sort. They appear to be suffering a combination of Sarah’s l’hrev symptoms and bonding sickness, but a strain of it that I have only read about, where one or both parties secretly fight the bond, and the body begins to fully reject it.”

“Is there a cure?” Titania asked, a frown pinching her gentle face.

“No…you have to wait it out,” Maeve replied, shaking her head sadly. “Ordinarily the two Fae involved are put together in close proximity, generally the same bed, so that their bond can solidify. However, I have reservations about doing that in this case, as the fever may kill Sarah, since her change is not yet complete. Her changeling form will protect her from the high fevers to a point, but I don’t want to risk pushing her body too far during l’hrev.”

“But if we keep them apart, the bond will fail,” Titania countered, looking to her husband for support, only to find quiet acceptance in his steely gaze.

Sighing, Maeve checked on the girl before her, relieved that her skin was cooling down at last.

“If this is a bond rejection, then yes, the bond will fail, which may be a blessing,” she said, squaring her shoulders against the stern look from her King. “I’m sorry, Your Majesties. I know that you hoped these two children would come to bond naturally, but this is clearly not a natural bond, which may explain the rejection. For both of their sakes, allowing it to fail is likely the kindest course of action.”

Titania tenderly stroked the young girl’s hand, her mind considering what Maeve was saying. _Given that Sarah wants to distance herself from Jareth to protect her heart, this may just be the reprieve she needs, until she can come to see how much she wants and needs Jareth_ – she thought, ignoring the quizzical look from Auberon as she carefully blocked his access to her thoughts. Finally she nodded, giving Sarah’s cheek a motherly caress.

“Fine, we’ll keep them isolated from each other until the l’hrev cycle ends, then we can see how they fare being in the same house or room,” she said, relieved when Auberon nodded his agreement.

“I’ll keep Jareth at the Crystal Palace until the fever breaks, then send him to his own kingdom,” he replied, weariness and concern still evident in his grey eyes. “I trust you will stay at the manor with the children?”

Titania nodded, her heart still troubled by the thought of the bond failing. “Yes. I will remain here until Jareth can return to the manor.”

“If he _can_ return,” Auberon said, his words a low rumble that belied his own fears.

“He will,” Titania said firmly. “He’s his father’s son… nothing will keep him from his chosen mate.”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**


	17. So Lonely You Could Die

**50 Shades of Fey**

**Ch. 17**

**Warning:** This chapter contains reference to character death. It is not graphic, but it is there. Consider yourself warned.

 **Author’s Note:** I own nothing except two copies of ‘Labyrinth’, a couple autographed Bowie prints, far too many stuffed animals for a grown-woman, a talking Baymax, a couple stuffed owls (named Sarah and Jareth, of course), and lots of fantasies involving our favourite glittery, tight-panted monarch and his lovely crop. I am merely borrowing Jareth, Sarah and other characters from the Henson armory to feed my own fantasies. I promise to return them none the worse for wear (well, except maybe for Jareth and his crop…it really is his own fault).

* * *

 

The first thing Jareth became aware of was the sharp glare of sunlight that felt like it was piercing into his skull through his shut eyelids. He groaned, squinting his eyes shut even tighter against the relentless brightness. With a wave of his hand, the curtains swept across the window, the heavy brocade rustling softly as it fell against the stones floor. Jareth relaxed slightly when the offending light had been banished, the pain in his eyes abating slowly. As he lay there, he noticed a painful throbbing in his head and a foul taste in his mouth, sour and thick. He opened his mouth, flicking his tongue over the roof of his mouth and his lips and grimaced at the taste; the last time he had tasted something this foul was when the goblins had decided to ‘flavor’ their ale with dragon-fire flowers. Swallowing, he groaned again, his throat felt both parched and sticky, as if he had been dehydrated far too long.

 

 _I’ve been hung over before, but this is a whole new level of hung over…even for me_ – he thought, while trying to remember what witches brew he had to have been drinking to be this ill.

Jareth stretched gingerly, then grunted as his head throbbed painfully from the slight movement. With his eyes still shut tight, he took a slow, deep breath before promptly gagging from the stench of stale sweat, rage and lust that hung heavily around him.

 _Bloody Hell…it smells like a dwarven brothel in here_ \-- he thought, wrinkling up his nose, and hoping he wasn’t actually _in_ a dwarven brothel, as that would be hard to explain to his parents, let alone Sarah.

Cracking an eyelid he took in the familiar tapestry on the wall next to his bed. Unicorns. Sun. Crystals. _I’m in my chambers…at the Crystal Palace_ – Jareth mused, before noticing that his bed, which was usually covered in sleek silk sheets of navy blue and a thick, burgundy colored velvet comforter – was now devoid of his usual bedding. Turning his head slightly, he winced at the pain, his lips pulling tight against his teeth in a grimace. His fingers lightly stroked the sheet he lay upon. Linen…fine linen, as would be expected in the Crystal Palace – but still, they were not his sheets. Something was clearly not right.

He took another deep breath, still fighting the urge to retch from the acrid smell that assailed him, then tried to sit up, only to fall weakly back onto the pillows with a moan, his arm draped over his eyes. “Gods…what the seven Hells did those cretins serve me?” he muttered, his voice rasping roughly through his dry throat.

“Take it easy, my boy,” Auberon said, gently patting his son’s hand only to pull his hand away when Jareth flinched in pain.

Moving his arm from over his eyes, Jareth peered up at his father through slitted eyes, surprised by the concern etched on the elder king’s face. “What is it? What’s happened?” he whispered, the words irritating his dry throat. Coughing violently, Jareth curled on his side clutching his head, as a stabbing pain lanced through his brain with each wracking cough. When the fit finally died down, he lay there panting softly, before rolling weakly onto his back.

“Small sips, Jareth,” Auberon said, as he bent over, carefully helping Jareth lift his head and holding a glass to his son’s lips.

Jareth closed his eyes and sighed at the feeling of the cool water meeting his parched mouth, then flowing down his throat. In that moment, he thought that water was the best thing he had ever experienced in his entire life. A moment later Auberon took the glass away and sat it on the nightstand, before sitting back in his chair by the bed, his grey eyes watching Jareth’s every move like the hawk that he was.

“Better,” Jareth murmured, still enjoying the lingering sensation of the cool liquid. It was only when the sensation faded that he became aware of the fact that he was completely nude and there wasn’t even a sheet on the bed, yet every inch of his flesh felt hot and hyper-sensitive to the point of stinging pain.

“Father…I’m nude…in pain… in _your_ castle… and feel like I’ve got the worst hang-over in the history of the worlds…what has happened?” he demanded, turning his head to look at his father.

The elder king sighed, idly stroking his long beard as he tried to work out how best to explain to his beloved son, everything that had happened over the past two days. It wasn’t a conversation he really wanted to be having, but it was necessary. For two days he had sat at Jareth’s bedside, leaving Allistair to handle those affairs of the kingdom and Underground which he could, and pushing all other matters until later. The only thing on his mind was seeing his son come out of whatever strange illness had consumed him. As the hours ticked by and Jareth lay still and silent as the grave, Auberon had gone over what he might tell the boy when he awoke, but now that he was actually faced with breaking the news to his son, he found that the things he had imagined telling him would not be as easy as he had hoped.

Seeing the concern and sadness in his father’s eyes, Jareth groaned, forcing his body to sit up, “It’s Sarah…isn’t it?” he said, trying to swing his legs over the side of the bed, his mind focused on getting to her.

“Relax, Jareth,” Auberon said, rising and grabbing Jareth by the arms to stop him before he hurt himself. “You need rest.”

“No…I’ve got to go to her,” Jareth insisted, repulsed by the frailty that seemed to plague his limbs, leaving him unable to escape his father’s gentle, yet unyielding grip.

Auberon fixed his son with a stern look, his grey eyes narrowed with frustration.  “Lay _down_ , Jareth…that is an order from your king,” his said, then nodded as Jareth did as he was told. “Sarah is… okay.”

Jareth’s arched eyebrows slanted in annoyance, his words quiet and distrusting, “And why don’t I believe you… _Sire?_ Stop hedging.”

With an irritated sigh, Auberon sat back in his chair once more. “That is the only truth I can give you on her condition, Jareth,” he finally said, sounding as tired as he felt, after two days of worrying over the fate of his son and the girl who should be the next Goblin Queen. “The fact is, it is complicated, son. You and Sarah were struck with a mysterious illness two days ago.”

“Fae don’t get human illnesses,” Jareth protested, while trying to sit up again, the muscles in his arms shaking visibly with the effort, before he collapsed back onto the bed.

“Blast it all, boy! I’m trying to tell you what’s happened. Now lay still or so help me I will chain you to that bed!” Auberon snapped, his grey eyes flickering sharply and only quieting when Jareth blinked owlishly up at his father. Sighing, Auberon’s shoulders slumped and he shook his head.

Seeing his father’s usual strength falter, Jareth backed down, laying quietly on the bed. “I’m sorry, father. I’m just….”

“You’re worried about the woman that your mind and body recognize as your queen…even if your heart doesn’t yet admit it,” Auberon finished for him. With a sheepish sigh, Jareth nodded. “We found you unconscious on the floor of your bathroom, burning up with a fever.”

At his words Jareth frowned, his mind running through flashes of memory – incredible heat…burning pain all over his body…the shared dream…claiming Sarah.

Jareth felt his blood run cold, his face paling at the realization. He’d claimed her. Even worse, he’d seeded her, claiming his mate. Seeing his son go tense and pale, Auberon tilted his head, watching him warily.

“What is it, Jareth?” he asked, as Jareth weakly shook his head from side to side.

“Gods…no… Sarah will kill me,” he groaned, his eyes shutting as he clenched his jaw. “I didn’t mean to. I swear it. I didn’t know what was happening and once I figured it out, the pain and need were too damn much. I couldn’t stop it.”

Leaning forward, Auberon reached out to try to calm his son, only to have Jareth jerk away. His son’s eyes snapped open, looking panicked at Auberon. “No! You don’t understand…I claimed her father. I seeded her!” he protested, running a hand through his wild hair.

His father shook his head, his voice quiet, “No Jareth…you didn’t. Maeve would have said something, we’d have known.”

“Yes, father. I did,” Jareth insisted, tearing at the feathery strands of his hair.  “She pulled me into another dream. There was this horrific heat for both of us. She was begging me to end her agony…and my own. So I did,” he moaned, shaking his head again. “You know that dreams like that can become reality. We were both…feral…in our need.”

“Think carefully, my boy,” Auberon said, his expression pensive, as if Jareth had actually joined fully with Sarah and seeded her in the dream, that would indeed complicate matters further.

Frowning, Jareth covered his face with his hands, fighting through the fog in his mind to remember what happened in the dream. There was so much heat and pain, then the incredible pleasure of her body, clutching and grasping at his. He remembered her begging him for more, her own need driving his. Then there was the horrifying realization of what he was about to do and what that would mean for the both of them.

Jareth let out a wavering sigh and uncovered his face, the panicked look receding. “No…no I didn’t complete the claim,” he said, the relief he felt evident in the way his hands shook. “Dear Gods, but it was a close thing, father.”

Auberon felt his own heart unclench at that revelation, his expression still serious. “Just as well then, because if you had, you would have undoubtably been successful in seeding her.”

Jareth considered his father’s words, then groaned as he realized what had happened, “Don’t tell me…she’s started l’hrev.” When his father nodded, Jareth growled, “The girl goes into heat and nearly burns the two of us alive in a shared dream?! Then she nearly gets herself claimed, seeded and mated within a dream, during her first cycle?! I swear… we’ll need to lock her in an oubliette for her own safety – and my sanity! The Fates have a seriously warped sense of humour!”

“You don’t know the half of it, my boy,” Auberon said, bracing himself for his son’s reaction to what he had to say. “The fever was not just from the ‘heat’. Maeve believes the two of you are suffering from a type of bonding sickness – where one of you is rejecting the bond.”

Jareth froze, his mind seeming to malfunction from those words.

Bonded. To Sarah.

Shaking his head, he looked at his father. “I swear to you, Sire… I would _never_ mark someone without the permission of the crown. And Sarah… no. Of course not. She only just came back to me. She can’t be bonded to me, we haven’t introduced her to the court yet,” he said, his mind whirling with the implications of this.

“I know you would not ignore the laws, my boy,” Auberon replied, stroking his beard as his pale eyes narrowed pensively on his only son. “However, that doesn’t explain how we came to this point. Maeve is quite sure that there is a bond between you and Sarah. And between the bonding sickness and shared dreams, I’m inclined to agree with her.”

“But...if I didn’t do it, then how?” Jareth asked, reaching up and running his fingers through his hair with rough, agitated strokes.

Auberon sucked quietly on his pipe, tilting his head slightly and nodding, as if having come to a conclusion in some inner dialogue. “I don’t know, son. You would have had to introduce her to the Court for it to take effect. Then the usual stages of bonding would need to occur.”

Frowning, Jareth let his mind race over his interactions with Sarah since she had re-entered his life, then shook his head. “Aside from going to school, she has been sequestered at the manor, Father. She has not been to the Underground since her Labyrinth run, much less been introduced at court and marked as my bond-mate.” As soon as the word’s left his mouth, Jareth felt his blood freeze in his veins. Once upon a time he _had_ introduced her at court – just not his father’s court. “Bogdamnit…that bloody maze did it!” he growled, dragging himself to a seated position against the headboard of the bed, the anger that coursed through him allowing him to ignore the flare of painful throbbing in his head at the movement.

The High King arched an elegant eyebrow as he looked at his son, “The Labyrinth?”

“Yes…that blasted beast did this to us! Sarah ate the peach, as she was supposed to and was given her dream – a fantasy ball fit for a princess and a dance with a prince,” Jareth spat angrily, a crystal appearing unbidden in his hand. Glancing at the shimmering orb, he felt the rage burn through him again. He watched Sarah in the glittery silver-white ball gown, moving through the throng of dancers, searching for her prince as he slid easily in and out of the crowd, taunting her with his presence – close enough to see, but still a distant, mysterious being. “The dancers at the fantasy ball were composed of _my_ court, so yes… I danced with her, introducing her to _my_ court and marking her as mine!” he grumbled. “The dream is created by the Labyrinth from the runner’s own dreams and fears. No runner in my reign had ever had such a dream, so I assumed it was just that – a dream. I played my part. That is _all_!”

Auberon nodded, deep in thought as he too watched the dream play out in the crystal. “Like it or not, my boy, it would appear that the Labyrinth had chosen its queen and decided to take matters into its own hands to secure her,” he said, his words quiet and pensive. “Both you and Sarah were mere pawns in its match-making, which would explain why the bond is failing – one or both of you are rejecting it, even though, until this moment at least, neither of you knew the bond existed.”

The reminder of the bond sickness and rejection shook Jareth from his anger with the sentient being that was his Labyrinth. “But…there are ways to solidify the bond,” he said, feeling his heart falter at the sad look in his father’s eyes.

“Not in this case, Jareth,” Auberon said gently, feeling his own heart ache at the stricken look on Jareth’s face.

“Yes… Sarah and I just need to be near each other and the bond will strengthen,” Jareth countered, then started to push himself to stand. “We have to go…now…or the sickness will get worse until the bond fails.”

Auberon reached out and laid his hand on Jareth’s shoulder, firm enough to keep the Crown Prince seated, “No, my boy. You won’t be going anywhere. When Maeve was trying to treat the fever, we put the two of you in the same bed so she could examine you together. You both went into violent fits and Sarah’s fever burnt out of control – high enough to kill a normal human. Even in her changeling form, had it gone higher, the mental damage that may have been done…” he sighed, shaking his head and leaving the rest of the thought unspoken. “No, Jareth. You can’t go to her. For both of your sakes you must stay away from the girl… for now at least.”

Hearing that, Jareth visibly wilted, his shoulders slumping as he felt his breath catch in his throat. Stay away from her? He had become so accustomed to her presence in his days, even if it was just a quiet dinner.  And while she may frustrated him terribly, he would never wish her harm.

“No…I don’t want that,” he murmured, staring at the image of himself dancing with Sarah and singing to her. For years he had wanted to dance with her once more, to hold her in his arms, and now that it seemed he might legitimately get the chance, his own dream was being torn from him.

Auberon nudged his son’s shoulder gently, guiding him to lay back once more upon the pillows. “I’m sorry, Jareth. I can see now that no matter how much the girl frustrates you, you do have feelings for her. But this is all that can be done. The bond was initiated under false pretenses by the Labyrinth, and you know as well as I do, that a true bond will only take when it involves the full consent of both parties.”

Jareth nodded numbly, wondering at the sense of loss that made his heart clench and ache in his chest. “Can a bond be reestablished once it is lost?” he asked quietly, peering at his.

Auberon merely shrugged, his pale eyes carrying grave reservations. “I don’t know, my son. The only failed bonds I know of were between couples in which one of the parties did not actually want it. So…in my lifetime it has never happened. I’d say the chances are…slim.”

The aching in Jareth’s heart seemed as if it would choke him with its icy pain. As angry as he had been with Sarah, the last thing he wanted was to lose her – almost as if part of him recognized the bond even though he was not complicit in its initiation. But that was over now. The bond would fail, and there was nothing that could be done. He watched the dream couple dancing slowly through the Goblin Court, and bit back a sob. _It isn’t fair_ – he thought miserably. Releasing the crystal, he watched it shimmer briefly then pop – along with his dream of having Sarah in his arms once more.

Closing his eyes, Jareth drew into himself, blocking out his father, the room and the rest of the world, wanting nothing more than to find the deepest, darkest oubliette and lock himself in with his grief.

In the end however, grief is a prison of its own making.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Leaning back on her hands, Sarah smiled and closed her eyes, lifting her face toward the warm sun. It felt so good to be outside, letting the warm breeze wash over her, like a tender caress. She sighed happily, enjoying the sun’s heat beating down on her face and body. All around her she heard the gentle rustle of the summer breeze.

 _That’s not right. It’s fall. Late September now. I had to switch to winter weight tights for school last week_ – she thought, as a sliver of doubt broke free in her mind.

Sitting up, she pulled her denim clad knees up to her chest and wrapped her arms around them as she looked around, only mildly surprised to find herself sitting on a grassy hilltop overlooking the Labyrinth. She found herself fascinated by the way the whole thing seemed to glitter slightly in the midday sun. The walls extended as far as she could see, twisting, turning and moving in a graceful dance that seemed perfectly choreographed.

 _No wonder it was so difficult_ – she mused, watching as entire sections seemed to rearrange themselves. She frowned when she saw a section of hedge maze disappear from one side of the Labyrinth, only to reappear a moment later on the other side.

“That’s not fair,” she muttered to herself, then gasped in surprise when she was answered.

“It isn’t supposed to be,” said a gentle voice next to her. “That’s just the way it is.”

Turning, Sarah saw a woman sitting next to her on the grass. She had lovely purple curls that cascaded over her shoulders and down her back, the shade matching her purple eyes. The woman was wearing a thin white, Roman style dress, with silver cords twisting over her shoulders, between her breasts and around her waist. In the bright sunlight, the white material was nearly transparent, highlighting the woman’s figure as she leaned back on her hands, watching the Labyrinth continue its dance over the land below them.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this is your spot,” Sarah said, but strangely didn’t feel as if she needed to leave.

“It isn’t really. Technically it belongs to Him,” the woman said.

Sarah’s eyes narrowed in confusion, “Him who?” she asked.

“The Goblin King, of course,” replied the woman as if it were perfectly obvious. “I’m just a slave to His whims.”

Now Sarah was really confused.

“You’re his slave?” she asked, then registered the woman’s purple hair. “Oh…yes…I guess you are.” Sarah felt a wave of jealousy rush through her as she realized this woman must be Jareth’s pleasure slave. He’d told her he didn’t have one, or even want one, yet, here the woman was. _The bastard lied to me_ – she thought bitterly. “So did he send you here or what?” she snapped, then tried to calm down. _No sense being mean to her, just because Jareth is being a prick_ – she scolded herself.

“No…he didn’t. He’s too angry with me,” the woman sighed sadly. “I did something without His permission and now He is angry. He hasn’t spoken to me in days.”

Looking at the woman, Sarah had the strangest feeling she should understand what was going on, but she didn’t. “Does everyone in the Labyrinth speak in riddles? Why can’t anyone give a straight answer,” she huffed with a frown.

The woman merely shrugged, “You get the answers for the questions you ask. If you don’t ask the right questions, you won’t get the answers you seek.”

Sarah growled in frustration, “Fine. Why are you here if he didn’t send you?”

 _Shouldn’t you be in his bed at the castle or something?_ – she added to herself.

Before the woman could answer a loud cry rang out over the Labyrinth, as if a million voices began to moan and sob at once.

“What the Hell is that?” gasped Sarah, her green eyes wide in alarm. The sound was chilling, yet it seemed to press into her, until she felt the cry within her every cell.

The woman next to her hung her head and muttered sadly, “The Goblin lament. It is the grief song of the Goblin race. When their ruler dies…”

Sarah turned to her in shock, her words cutting off the strange woman’s explanation, “Jareth’s dead?!”

Blinking in confusion, the purple-haired woman looked at Sarah as if she had grown a second head. “What? No…where did you get that idea?”

“From you!” yelled Sarah, hopping to her feet and starting to rush down the hill toward the Labyrinth gate below.

“Where are you going?” called the woman, rushing after her.

Stopping by a little stone fountain at the bottom of the hill, Sarah considered the question. She didn’t know where she was going, or why. All she knew was that Jareth was dead.

 Jareth was dead.

As much as she hated him, that news made her chest ache, until each breath felt like it would suffocate her. Sarah gave a strangled sob and collapsed in the dirt, burying her head in her hands as she cried. She barely noticed when gentle arms enfolded her, rocking her quietly.

“Shh…Sarah… why are you crying?” asked the woman.

Shaking her head, Sarah felt the icy tendrils of grief slide through her heart and mind, until she felt the urge to scream her pain at the sky. Before she could process what she was doing, she did just that, throwing back her head and howling her grief into the air, her voice joining the lament that was echoing mournfully across the Labyrinth.

The woman continued to hug Sarah gently as she cried, tears washing over the young woman’s face, until Sarah couldn’t scream anymore. Hanging her head, her shoulders shook with silent sobs. It seemed like forever before the tears stopped, her eyes stinging painfully. Sarah scrubbed at her eyes with the cuff of her shirt, before stopping and staring at it. A linen shirt. Looking down she shook her head again seeing the cream brocade vest she wore through the Labyrinth and her favourite linen shirt.  Looking at her knees she saw her jeans. Her favourite pair. The ones that had the hole in the knee from the night she ran the Labyrinth. Something was wrong. It shouldn’t be summer. She shouldn’t be in the Underground and she hadn’t worn this outfit since that very night, because it smelled like…like Jareth. Once more she felt her heart squeeze painfully in her chest, derailing the part of her mind that was trying desperately to piece together where she was and why.

“The goblins will cry out as long as their King grieves,” the woman said quietly. “If he doesn’t stop soon, they will all wear themselves out. And then where will I be? No Master. No Kingdom. No Labyrinth,” she sighed.

Frowning Sarah pulled back, looking at the strange woman angrily. “As long as the King grieves? But you said he was dead!”

“No…I didn’t. I said that the goblins will sing the lament for the death of the king _or_ to share the king’s grief,” she said, tilting her head and looking at Sarah. “The king is not dead, although his heart is in danger of dying,” she added with a sad sigh.

Sarah shook her head, completely irritated with the odd woman. “Okay…let’s start with the basics. What _exactly_ , is wrong with the Goblin King?”

The woman hung her head again, as the goblin lament continued to ring out over the Labyrinth, carrying upon the breeze so that it sounded like the two of them were right in the midst of it.

“His heart is breaking,” she said simply. “He is grieving the loss of love. Of hope. Of his future.”

Pursing her lips, Sarah tried to keep calm, but the cryptic partial answers of the purple-haired woman were really annoying her. “ _Why_ is his heart breaking? You’re his pleasure slave. Shouldn’t you…I don’t know…please him or something? I mean, you really must have pissed him off to break his heart. Hell, I didn’t even think he had one.”

The woman looked at Sarah in shock, not even sure where to begin addressing Sarah’s comments. “Of course my Master has a heart. Only someone with compassion and heart could rule the goblins,” she insisted, then frowned at Sarah, giving her a darkly quizzical look. “Perhaps I misjudged you and you were not the girl I sought, if you think so ill of the king,” she mused more to herself than Sarah. “Yes… perhaps it is for the best that His heart is breaking now, rather than later.”

“Arrgh!! Will you just stop talking in riddles!” yelled Sarah, launching herself to her feet and pacing in front of the little stone fountain. “ _Why_ is Jareth’s heart breaking?! You’re his pleasure slave…what did you do?!” she demanded, her green eyes flashing angrily at the woman who had pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the fountain.

“Firstly, I am not His pleasure slave. I serve at His pleasure, true…but not _that_ kind of pleasure,” the woman replied, glaring back at Sarah with equal anger. “And His heart is breaking because of me…and to a lesser extent you.”

That stopped Sarah cold.

“Me? What the Hell do I have to do with that?” she asked, then scanned the horizon as she noticed the sky growing darker, gathering clouds of dark grey blocking out the warmth of the sun. “I haven’t done a damn thing to Jareth’s heart. He’s been fucking with mine,” she added angrily.

The strange woman looked at the sky as she spoke. “I tried to help the two of you see that you should stay…The kingdom needed you…the king needed you…and so did I,” the odd woman said, shaking her head. “But the bond wasn’t consensual, so it is failing. It’s all my fault.”

“You needed me?” Sarah asked, pinching the bridge of her nose as she tried to think this through. When the woman started to giggle, she scowled. “What is so damn funny?”

The woman looked up at her with a warm smile, “You look Jareth when you do that.”

“Yeah well, he gets frustrated with me often enough, now I know why he does it,” Sarah muttered, then shook her head. “Stop distracting me and tell me who you are and why you need me. For that matter, why does the kingdom or Jareth need me?”

“I’m the Labyrinth,” the purple-haired woman said matter-of-factly. “And the three of us needed you because you have the qualities we need in a queen.”

Sarah froze, as her heart momentarily forgot how to beat.

Queen. The Goblin Queen.

 _More specifically…Jareth’s Queen_ – her inner-self reminded her.

“But…I’m just…just…me. Sarah. A silly 17 year-old. I’m no queen,” she finally muttered, her heart going from not beating at all, to beating wildly in her chest like it was trying to escape – or throttle her from the inside out.

“Doesn’t matter. It’s too late now,” The Labyrinth sighed, her purple eyes filled with despair.  “The bond is failing and I can’t fix it. Not even the High King and Queen can fix it. Now my Master won’t speak to me and His heart is dying.”

Frowning once more, Sarah looked at the Labyrinth, knowing that she had to ask a question, but having the disturbing feeling that she was not going to like the answer.

“What happens if his heart dies?” she finally asked, her green eyes watching the purple-haired woman warily.

“So dies the line of Auberon,” the Labyrinth whispered, her eyes shining with tears.

“I don’t understand,” Sarah said, sitting next to the Labyrinth on the edge of the fountain, her fingers caressing the small crystal pendant that hung around her neck.

The Labyrinth waved her hand and a shining family tree appeared, floating in the air in front of them. Sarah could see Auberon and Titania at the head of the family, with Jareth and four sisters beneath them. All of his siblings appeared to be married with children of their own – all except Jareth.

“If his heart dies, then the line of Auberon will die with it. Jareth will have no legitimate heir to his throne, since the Fae can only bear children with their bond-mate, the one being in all the worlds that they truly love with all their heart. Without love, there will be no heir. Without an heir, when Jareth dies as High King, the Underground will be thrust into chaos and war until the next king is declared,” the Labyrinth said, her voice slow and ethereal, as if in a trance.

“But…he doesn’t love me,” Sarah murmured, shaking her head in denial.

The Labyrinth looked at her quietly, then dropped her head. “In his way, he did and it was growing, but your anger at him confused things. Not like it matters anymore.” Blinking as the family tree image faded into purple mist, the Labyinth sadly peered into the water of the fountain. “I am sorry, Sarah. It is my fault. I had seen the threads of destiny when you wished away your brother. I thought to nudge things along and meddled in the realm of the Fates.”

“What did you do?” Sarah asked quietly, no longer angry, as a heavy weight settled in her chest with everything the Labyrinth had told her about the end of the line of Auberon.

“The dream peach…every runner gets one. Jareth didn’t create the dream you found yourself in. I did…drawing it from your own desires and fears, as I do with all runners. Upon seeing your dreams of being a princess, I took that aspect and created the ball, allowing Jareth to play the part of your prince. Within that dream, Jareth unknowingly presented you to his Court, our citizens… and in doing so claimed you as his bond-mate. His queen-to-be,” the Labyrinth explained, then sighed deeply. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I just wanted you to stay with us. The king…he’s been lonely. While he gets many offers for his company, those that offer are good for nothing more than few hours of distraction – and he knows it. Despite the reputation he earned quite rightly when he was younger, he has grown tired of such pastimes and wants a companion, someone to love and who will love him. And then you came along. I could feel you were his match and his subjects recognized you as well. I could feel the threads of destiny twined around your run, and thought to help them along.”

“I was only 14,” Sarah protested, cringing inwardly at the weakness in her voice. _Jareth loved me…or was starting to_ – she thought, her heart clenching in her chest. Sarah sat quietly staring into the fountain for a long time, watching the ripples of the shimmering water without actually seeing them. Finally she sighed and looked into the sad eyes of the Labyrinth, her own green eyes glistening with unshed tears “What can we do?” she asked, her voice cracking softly. She felt her own heart grow cold when the Labyrinth shook her head.

“Nothing. The bond is failing. You and Jareth can’t even be near each other right now, or your fever will return,” she said, wiping at her own tears with a delicate hand. “They tried, but l’hrev combined with the bonding sickness nearly killed you and such a thing would devastate Jareth.”

 _A fever…so this is a fever dream. Finally…something that makes sense_ – Sarah thought, then let the knowledge go, as her mind wrestled with more important matters.

Biting her lip, Sarah’s eyebrows drew together as she considered everything she had been told. “Couldn’t we just renew the bond later? Try again -- Like a do-over?”

The Labyrinth looked troubled, her slender fingers lightly touching the crystal waters of the fountain. “I do not know. No one in the history of the Underground has tried such a thing.”

“So…it _could_ be done?” Sarah persisted, then added. “I mean….if Jareth even wanted to do it again, that is.”

“If both parties were fully willing, then perhaps,” the Labyrinth replied thoughtfully, then looked at Sarah, her purple eyes filled with concern. “But Sarah, it has never been attempted before. I do not know if there would be repercussions from such a thing. It is not something to be taken lightly, because the results could be catastrophic.”

“But it _could_ work,” Sarah said again, more firmly, her words a statement of fact, not a question.

“In theory…yes,” replied the Labyrinth, puzzled as Sarah stood up again, brushing her hands off and nodding, determination flashing in her eyes and stance.

“Well then…come on. I think the king needs a swift kick up the backside…and I’m just the person to do it,” she said, then took off toward the gates of the Labyrinth, muttering to herself. “Bogdammit Jareth! Couldn’t just let me know you ‘liked’ me. Had to act like an overbearing jerk. And now look where it’s gotten us. Just because you’re a stubborn, arrogant, glittery asshat who can’t admit when he needs someone….” Sarah grumbled, so lost in her angry muttering that she didn’t notice the world as it started to fall down around her, like paint being washed down a canvas in a cascade of color.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

“It’s been four days, Maeve. How much longer will she sleep?” Titania asked, pacing Sarah’s bedroom as Maeve examined the girl yet again.

For the first two days Maeve checked on Jareth and Sarah every few hours, as Titania and Auberon stood watch over the couple. Once Jareth awoke, she continued to check on Sarah every two hours, hoping to see some sign of improvement – yet none came. Although the fever had broken, Sarah still slumbered, only moaning in her sleep now and then. The old crone finished her examination and sat back upon the edge of the bed, watching her worried queen. She hated to admit that she didn’t have an answer, but there was nothing for it.

“Well, Your Majesty, since Jareth woke two days ago, I believe Sarah should come out of her sleep anytime. The fever and bonding sickness would have wiped her out. Once her body replenishes itself, she’ll wake up,” Maeve said, wishing she felt as confident in her prognosis as she sounded.

At the mention of Jareth, Titania’s lavender eyes glistened with tears. For the last two days he had hidden away somewhere deep in his kingdom, refusing all attempts to communicate and even actively trying to block his parents from feeling for him through their familial link. While Jareth was powerful, even he couldn’t block the full extent of his grief and rage from his parents. Titania, looked sadly at the beautiful young woman on the bed and her heart broke for her son. She and Auberon knew he was blocking the link, but even still, the amount of grief and pain that broke through it was enough to cause both of them to feel physically ill _._

 _If this is what we are feeling, just imagine the force of what Jareth feels. My poor, darling boy_ – she thought with a choked sob.

Sensing her monarch’s distress, Maeve rose and gently patted Titania’s arm, giving the High Queen a compassionate smile. “He’ll come around.  Jareth may be as stubborn and bull-headed as his father, but he’ll settle down once his pain passes.”

“Gods Maeve… when she turned him down the first time he mourned and raged over her loss for a year – and he didn’t love her then!” Titania moaned, dropping into the chair beside the bed and burying her face in her hands. “Did we do the right thing in separating them? Maybe we could have done something else?”

“No, Your Majesty. If we’d kept them together it would have killed Sarah. Which would be worse? Breaking the bond and leaving Jareth with a temporarily broken heart, or keeping them together and killing the girl, then leaving him with a broken heart _and_ the knowledge that _he_ is the one who killed her?” the old healer said gently, shaking her head. “They’ll survive this. You’ll see.”

Titania shook her head, glancing out Sarah’s window to the crystal topped spire in the center of the garden labyrinth. “I don’t know what possessed the Labyrinth to interfere,” she muttered, her own sense of despair deepening. For three days now she had tried to push the feeling aside, but it only grew. Everything in her told her that that Jareth and Sarah belonged together, yet she could see no way for that to happen with the bond destined to be broken.

A quiet sigh from the bed drew their attention, to find that Sarah was rubbing her eyes and stretching lazily. Blinking her eyes, Sarah slowly sat up, one hand rubbing absently at a tender, tingling spot at the center of her sternum. “I need to see Jareth, is he here?” she asked the two Fae women standing next to the bed, then stopped at their puzzled expressions. “Oh…he’s not still sulking in the Labyrinth is he?” she asked with a frown. “I swear I’m going to kick his ass if he still has the goblins howling.”

Titania’s eyes widened at the girl’s declaration. Slowly she moved toward the bed and sat next to Sarah, her delicate fingers reaching out and tucking an errant lock of hair behind the young woman’s ear. “Sarah, how do you know about Jareth?” she asked gently, her lavender eyes narrowing in confusion.

Sarah stretched her arms over her head, giving a satisfied purr when her neck and back popped, “The Labyrinth told me. She said she is sorry,” she replied, then sighed, shaking her head. “But I can’t remember why.”

Maeve and Titania glanced at each other in surprise. Everyone knew that only the only being able to communicate directly with the Labyrinth was the Goblin King, for the maze to speak with anyone else was unheard of. Seeing the odd looks on the face of the High Queen and the healer, Sarah’s jade eyes narrowed in concern, “What’s wrong? Is Jareth hurt?” she asked, then started to get up out of bed. “If he’s hurt I have to see him.” She wasn’t sure why she needed to see him, just that it was important.

“Easy girl, you’ve been ill for nearly a week,” Maeve said, gently stopping her and laying the young woman back on the bed.

“I’m sick?” she asked, her face pinching as she tried to remember. _Fever dream. I had a funny dream_ – she thought, then felt the concern over herself fade, her focus once more on Jareth.  “What about Jareth?”

Smiling, Titania patted Sarah’s hand. “It’s okay, darling, Jareth is fine. I promise you, he is just as stubborn as his father.”

“Oh…” Sarah said, and stopped fighting to get up from the bed. “Is he here?”

Titania shook her head and sat on the bed facing Sarah, holding the girl’s hand in her own delicate fingers. “No dear, he’s in his kingdom, which is where he will stay until your l’hrev cycle finishes.”

At that news, Sarah’s mind began to whirl, struggling to put seemingly random pieces of information into some semblance of order. L’hrev. Jareth had explained that she would essentially go into heat – something about putting off a mating scent. She wrinkled up her nose, absently rubbing the burning spot on her sternum. In confusion she pulled the front of her nightgown away from her body and peered down, then gasped. On her sternum was a small black mark that looked like Jareth’s horned sigil, surrounded by a small Labyrinth of lines.

“What the Hell?” Sarah squeaked, pulling the linen down to show Titania and Maeve, only to be even more scared by their reactions. “What is it?!”

Maeve’s lips pursed inward as she looked at the mark, while Titania’s eyes widened in surprise.

“It appears to be a bonding mark,” Maeve says. “Bonding couples get them when the bonding reaches a certain stage…”

“Bonding mark?! We aren’t bound…how did this happen?” Sarah moaned, shaking her head frantically, as the two older women gave each other a puzzled look, wondering how she knew of Jareth’s grief, but not of the bond the two of them shared.

Sarah lightly ran her finger over the mark, to find that the black lines were raised and warm under the pad of her finger, the sensation of her finger on the mark easing the sting and sending a small tremor of pleasure through her. Frowning, she looked at the healer and the High Queen. “Wait… when they reach what stage?” she asked. Both of the other women were silent, neither answering her question. Sarah’s frown deepened as she looked from one to the other, neither of them appearing inclined to answer. “ _When_ …does a bonding mark appear?” she asked again.

“When the relationship has been consummated,” Maeve finally said, her grey eyes glancing questioningly at Titania who was still processing her shock at seeing the strange bonding mark and the fact that Sarah seemed to have no knowledge of how she and Jareth were bound.

Sarah’s eyes widened at that. Shaking her head, she scratched at the mark, leaving red gouges along the edges, even as the central design was unmarred. Each pass of her nails sending an odd jolt of pleasured pain through her body, a sensation that made her gasp. “I haven’t done anything of the sort…with _anyone_ let alone with Jareth!”

Titania gently reached out and took hold of Sarah’s hand, “Shh…stop Sarah, before you hurt yourself.”

“But I didn’t do anything like that. I swear!” Sarah protested, her green eyes swimming with tears.

As Sarah broke down sobbing into her hands, Titania pulled the girl into a motherly hug. “It’s okay, darling. We believe you,” she said, gently rubbing Sarah’s back.

Sarah sniffed and pulled back, still rubbing at the offending mark, “Does Jareth have one?”

Titiana shook her head, then pulled her own neckline down, exposing the small black mark on her own sternum; the lines depiciting a leaf with a sword through it.

“A bonding mark only happens to women who are bonded to a male of one of the royal lines,” she explained, being careful not to touch her own mark. “The mark itself takes the shape of the male’s insignia. Some people call them a soul-brand. It is part of the final bonding ceremony – the consummation.”

Sarah craned her head, and peered down at the little mark, her eyebrows knitted together in her confusion. “So, that’s Jareth’s mark?”

Titania and Maeve shared a quiet look, before Titania answered.

“No, not quite. The horned triskellion _is_ Jareth’s sigil…but…I…I don’t recognize the rest of the mark,” the High Queen said, then immediately reached out as Sarah began to scratch at the mark once more.

“I want it gone! I didn’t ask for this!” she sniffed, scratching at it again and ignoring the delicious sensation of pleasure and pain that tickled down her spine to settle deep in her core.

Reaching over, Titania forcibly pulled the girl’s hand away, holding her firmly but tenderly, “Shh…Sarah, please. Don’t hurt yourself, darling. We’ll figure this out. I promise.”

As Sarah began to sob once more, Titania enfolded the girl in her arms, rocking her gently. She needed to talk to her son -- the sooner the better.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

For two days after waking, Jareth had raged through the tunnels of the Labyrinth, destroying anything that didn’t have the sense to run and hide. Luckily, that meant the crumbling walls of the disused lower  tunnels and a few mouthy ‘False Alarms’ were all that bore the brunt of his anger. He could feel the Labyrinth pulling at his mind, wanting to speak to him, but he ignored her – this mess was her fault and he was in no mood to listen to her attempts to justify it. If he could he would have gladly executed her in the most painful and slow way possible, as it was the only way to punish her for meddling was to ignore her and to let her feel the full measure of his pain.

If he was honest with himself, Jareth was surprised by the depth of his pain and grief over the knowledge that the bond to Sarah must be allowed to fail. Even though he did not know of the bond at the outset, the thought of being bonded to her…and eventually mated to her… set his blood aflame with one thought – WANT.  It was the longing that made the grief so painful.

Hurling a barrage of crystals at the chunks of rock and archways that hung in the air of the room of shattered dreams, Jareth roared, letting the full power of his Fae voice echo forth, doing as much damage to the stone as his crystals did. Jareth had no idea how long he had been in the room of shattered dreams, taking his anger out on the hulking mounds of rock and stone that marked the shattered dreams of past runners. Hours? Days? There was no time in there, only the sound of crystals shattering, ethereal rage and the sound of exploding stone. Despite all of the destruction he had wrought in that space, Jareth had derived little satisfaction from it. He longed to walk the walls of the Labyrinth herself and destroy her, brick by brick for the pain her meddling had brought him, but even in his rage, he could not destroy her. She was the essence of the land and he was bound to her by blood as her King.

Of course, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t punish her.

So, he punished himself. He neither ate, nor slept. Letting her feeling of panic and desperation build as he ignored her pleas to communicate with him, to let her make amends.

It was here, in this place of shattered dreams and hope that mirrored the anguish of his own heart, that he felt Sarah awake. For two days he had felt nothing from her, despite hours spent tracing along the familial lines and finding only Toby. It was as if she was gone from him entirely, a loss he was feeling more keenly than he ever would have admitted to anyone. He felt lost and abandoned.  One minute he was alone in his grief, surrounded by shards of rubble from the shattered dreams, then he felt a warmth flood him, as her scent surrounded him, so thick and powerful it dropped him to his knees with surprise and relief. And in that moment, the mighty Goblin King did something he had not done in a millienia.

He wept.

There amongst the remnants of his own shattered dreams and hopes, he sobbed glad to feel her within him once more, while mourning the knowledge that he would never live within her, as she did him.

Despite making the cracks in his heart deeper with the knowledge that he would not be able to love her for eternity, his relief at having her flood his senses once more was enough. Steeling himself, he forced the grief away. Jareth shut his eyes, then let his magic trace along the familial link, drawing strength from the steady pulsing of her link as it wrapped once more around his own, her heartbeat syncing with his in a rhythmic thrumming of magic and connection. He smiled feeling the now familiar level of confusion from her, then felt his heart ache further at the wave of fear and sadness that pulsed through the link, only to have it replaced with determination once more.

Opening his eyes, Jareth felt his own sense of determination. The bond would fail, that much was certain, but he had a family to take care of now. Whether he would call Sarah ‘mate’ in due time was uncertain, but if nothing else, he was responsible for providing for his wards – which meant he had a job to do.

And so, the Goblin King returned to work – even as his heart began to die, tendrils of ice blackening the tender surface, rendering it cold and unfeeling.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

**Author’s Note:** For those dear readers concerned that I am killing off Jareth – perish the thought! This is all building the overall plot. So stick with me and you’ll see what is what. Next chapter is angsty, with some ‘happy-ish’ elements, and hints toward future fun.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	18. When I Live My Dream

**Author's Note:**  Sorry about the delay in posting - my muse is being an obstinate witch now and I'm struggling to write even 100 words a day.

Ahh…the outcry from the last chapter. Have faith dear readers…there is a method to my madness! Stick with me, you'll see. As for this chapter… it is sexy and angsty, with a 'happy-ish' chaser, and lots of plot development, PLUS a twist in the tail. So buckle in for a wild ride. That said, this chapter carries a trigger warning for assault. Yeah…I know, There are lots of bad/sad things happening right now, but I promise we will be back to our usual J/S power struggle, UST and kinky shenanigans soon. Oh…and for the readers concerned that I'm going to pull a George R. Martin and kill off Jareth – Perish the thought! I can't kill off my favouite leading man! Besides, I promised y'all my usual brand of kink…and I intend to keep my promise.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

"It's just a bath," Sarah grumbled, picking up a lock of her greasy, matted hair and grimacing. "I'm gross. I need a proper bath. Besides, I feel fine."

Ever since she had woken from her fever, Maeve and Titania had confined her to her bed, only letting her out to use her bathroom. Much to Sarah's frustration, they even refused to let her bathe herself, going so far as to use crystals to bathe and clothe her as if she were an invalid. By the evening of the second day Sarah was growing restless and grouchy from the confinement, and demanding to be allowed to have a proper bath – by herself. This demand set off the elder women in a frenzy of heated protests, but Sarah refused to back down. She felt fine. She had obeyed them just as she knew Jareth expected of her, even to the point of eating the 'hearty' stews and potions that Maeve kept thrusting at her to 'build her back up'. She felt it was only fair that she be allowed to have a bath. After all, it wasn't like she was asking to run laps around the house or something ridiculous.

"It's just a bath," she had insisted again, her determination showing in the way she held their gaze firmly, without looking away or any hint of hesitation. "You've both been fluttering about me for days now. I want a bath. By myself. Everyone has seen more of my body than I'm really comfortable with and this is a perfectly reasonable request."

In the end, Sarah's sense of modesty won out and she was allowed that little bit of precious freedom – a bath. As she slid into the wonderfully cool water of the deep bathtub, she chuckled to herself, realizing just how often she had taken such a luxury for granted, both the bath itself and the privacy to enjoy it. The water licked at her bare flesh as she sunk deeper into it, her body relaxing into the cool embrace. When the water reached the strange mark on her skin and lapped gently at it, a burst of sensation ran through her, like a deep tickle under her skin that made her gasp.

"Are you okay, Sarah?" called Titania through the cracked door that the High Queen had insisted upon.

"Yeah…I'm good. The water just felt lovely," Sarah lied, watching the door warily to see if the Queen would push into the room. When she didn't, Sarah let herself relax once more, casting a critical eye upon the design that stood out against her pale flesh. Since she had awoken, it had ceased to cause her any pain, although there were times that it seemed to tingle, almost like an itch just under the skin. That she could deal with, it was the way it burned when she dreamt of Jareth that disturbed her most.

That wouldn't have been bad if the dreams were rare. Sadly, they were not even remotely a rare occurrence. No matter the time of day, whether mid-morning or in the wee hours of the night, every time she closed her eyes and gave into the call of sleep, dreams of Jareth filled her mind. There was no talking in these dreams, just movements and feelings, skin on skin and the feel of wispy silken hair teasing over her body. She could feel his body against hers, hard planes gliding against her own flesh, and every time he touched the mark in any way, it would burn and pulse, sending jolts of pleasure down her spine. But each time she felt herself draw close to the precipice of pleasure, her mind revolted.

"It's a dream! He isn't here! Wake up! Wake up!" her mind would scream and the dream would vanish.

 _That's almost as effective as shattering the dream with a chair_  – she thought with a wry smile.

To say she hadn't been sleeping well would be an understatement.

Pursing her lips, Sarah inspected the mark more closely. If she were honest with herself, the design of the mark was really quite pretty. While the outline of Jareth's sigil was solid black, over the days the lines of the labyrinth surrounding it had taken on almost a deep purple hue that seemed to shimmer when the light hit them just right. Having avoided touching it since she woke up, Sarah curiously reached up and ran her finger over it, her jade eyes widening at the sensation of calm that washed over her at the touch.

"Like magic…" she whispered in awe, lightly stroking the mark again and shivering at the slow flow of euphoria that seemed to run through her. "Fuck…who needs drugs with one of these things?"

After her bath, the High Queen and Maeve seemed to decide that there was no need to continue treating her like an invalid, so they left her alone with instructions that she was to accept breakfast in bed and take it easy until she returned to school on Monday, but she was free to leave her room – all of which was fine by Sarah. She knew from listening to them talk that Jareth had returned to his normal life almost immediately – they hadn't kept him confined to his bed or room. It wasn't fair. Of course, just the image of petite Titania informing Jareth that he must stay in bed made Sarah giggle. Somehow she was quite sure that such an order, even from his mother and High Queen wouldn't have been accepted willingly by the Goblin King, even though it was clear by the way he spoke to her that he loved her dearly.

Finally alone in her rooms, Sarah put music on, then called Angel, sprawling on the sofa as the phone rang.

"About bloody time you called!" snapped Angel sounding irritated, then her tone softened, concern edging her words. "So, are you feeling better? They wouldn't let me see you when I brought your homework by yesterday," she said.

Smiling, Sarah twisted the cord of the phone around her fingers as she answered, "Yeah. I'm fine now. It was some virus, but highly contagious with a really high fever," she said, feeling a twinge of guilt over lying to her friend. "They had to isolate me so Toby wouldn't get it, or anyone at school."

This answer seemed to appease Angel, who began chatter happily, filling Sarah in on all of the goings-on at school and her homework. "Don't worry about the stuff from chemistry and math, I talked to Rexy yesterday…"

"Wait…you did?" Sarah asked, sitting up on the couch, a frown creasing her forehead as a flash of jealousy burned through her. _He's talked to her…but not me_ – she wondered, the jealousy fading just as quickly, to be replaced with a pang of sadness that made her chest ache.

"Yes. It was a surprise really," Angel said, unaware of the conflicting emotions of her friend. "He called me at the dorm last night – which  _really_  pissed Marcy off something chronic," she giggled. "Anyway, he wanted to know if I'd like to come by the manor on Saturday and help you get caught up on your assignments. He said I wasn't allowed to stay the night since you still need your rest, but he wanted to make sure you had help with things."

Sarah caught herself nodding to her empty room, as her eyes and the mark both prickled uncomfortably. "Sure, that would be great," she said, a dull ache seeming to suffuse her body, even as she tried to keep her voice cheerful.

"You okay, ducks? You sound a bit tired," Angel replied.

"Yeah…I guess I am. Think I'll go to bed. I'll see you on Saturday," she said.

"Sure," Angel chirped, then gasped. "Oh! Wait…that reminds me. Angus stopped me after orchestra yesterday and asked after you. He wanted me to tell you that he loved your outfit at the movies and thought you looked awesome. I'm sure he's going to ask you out when you get back next week."

Sarah's heart seemed to falter in her chest, her mind freezing at the same time that the mark on her chest seemed to flare to life, burning and stinging in a way that it hadn't since she first woke up from the fever.

"Um… Gareth won't let me date," she said, cringing at how lame that sounded even to her own ears, despite the fact that it was the truth.

Sounding disappointed, Angel sighed, "Bummer. He's really into you. What about a group thing? It's not technically a 'date' then," she suggested, perking up again.

Sarah felt a small smile curl her lips at just how 'goblin' Angel's logic could be at times. Angel was almost as good at finding a loophole as a certain Fae King she knew of.

"I…uh… we'll see…" Sarah stammered, absently rubbing at the mark to try to soothe the burn. "Look, I'm really tired, Angel. I'll call you tomorrow night, ok?"

"Sure ducky… you go rest," Angel said, then hung up.

Sarah sat there for a long moment, the dial-tone buzzing in her ear as she tried to process all of the conflicting emotions that were warring within her.

 _Why would I be jealous that Jareth called Angel…it was just a simple request. He's trying to be a good guardian_  – she told herself, only to have her inner-self roll her eyes.

 _You're jealous because he hasn't talked to you since the fever started_  – retorted her inner-self in a matter-of-fact tone.

 _Well, he may not have talked to you, but he's certainly doing other things to you in your dreams. That has to count for something_  – suggested her libido, gleefully offering Sarah a memory slideshow of some of the highlights from her most recent Jareth-centric dream.

 _Those are dreams. They aren't really him_  – Sarah grumbled to herself, wishing that her inner-self could gag her libido, but for once they both seemed intent on ganging up on her.

Her libido gave a cheeky grin –  _Since you won't let real Jareth touch you, I'll take what I can get._

Sarah growled, flopping back on the sofa and thumping the still beeping phone handset against her head. "I can't be near him… it sets off the fever," she hissed into the empty room, then blushed sheepishly when she realized she was indeed talking to herself.

 _But what a lovely way to burn_  – murmured her inner-self, much to the surprise of Sarah and her libido. Looking unapologetic, her inner-self shrugged –  _What? It's true._

Try as she might, Sarah couldn't find it in herself to argue.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Sarah wasn't sure how she found herself in Jareth's study, but find herself there, she did.

After talking to Angel, Sarah had thrown herself into her schoolwork in an effort to quell the emotional uprising going on inside her. It had helped – somewhat at least.

From 7 until midnight she had worked steadily at catching up on her studies, letting Shakespeare and literary theory drive thoughts of Jareth and the confusion of Angus from her mind. At the stroke of midnight Titania knocked on her door and told her in no uncertain terms that she was still recovering from a very serious illness and needed to get to bed, or else she would send Maeve in to be sure she did as she was told. Grimacing at the thought of the stern healer lurking over her again, Sarah promised Titania she would just finish her current paragraph then go to bed, only to be surprised when the diminutive woman came over and kissed the top of her head, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Sweet dreams, darling girl. If you need me I'll be in my rooms," Jareth's mother said quietly, before leaving the room, gently shutting Sarah's door behind her.

Nibbling on the end of her pen, Sarah found herself smiling. As confused as she might be about other things, she was sure of one thing, when Jareth said she and Toby were part of the family, he really meant it – and it didn't just apply to him, but apparently his parents as well. All through her illness, his mother has taken care of her personally, and even his father had popped in periodically to check on her and amuse her with tales from when Jareth was a small child; tales which she was quite sure Jareth would  _not_  be happy that she now knew, since by all accounts he was quite naughty as a child. All of the attention and care made her feel wanted and loved _. It is almost like having parents again_  - Sarah thought, then frowned at the familiar squeezing ache in her chest.  _They are Jareth's parents._ Not mine – she scolded herself –  _They are only trying to be nice since Jareth can't be around me._

Forcefully pushing the thought down again, she shut off her computer and turned off the lights, before fulfilling her promise to the queen and heading to bed.

But sleep was elusive.

Rolling over in bed, Sarah looked at the clock for what felt like the millionth time, then sighed. 2 am and she wasn't the least bit tired. Of course, she had napped off and on all day, so it wasn't that surprising really. With an irritated growl, she flopped onto her back, throwing her arms wide across the bed as she stared at the shadows the moonlight was casting upon her ceiling. It wasn't that she was fighting sleep due to her erotic dreams featuring a certain tight-panted, overly glittery, and ridiculously arrogant monarch, it was just that sleep wouldn't come.

 _And neither are you_  – groused her libido, while her inner-self snickered.

Sarah thumped her head on the pillow, trying to ignore them while willing herself to find sleep. But every time she shut her eyes, her mind would twist and turn, winding in on itself until it ended up back where it always did – with Jareth.

There was something that kept niggling at her since she had first woken up, something about Jareth that was important. But try as she might, she couldn't think of what it was, yet the feeling was always there, lurking just at the edge of her conscious thought. She knew it had to do with Jareth, the strange purple-haired woman who called herself the Labyrinth, and oddly enough, herself, but she couldn't think of what it was.

She remembered talking to the weird woman in a fever dream. She knew from her dream and from listening to Titania and Maeve talk in hushed tones when they thought she was asleep, that when Jareth had woken up two days before she had, he had immediately hidden away in the heart of the Labyrinth having some sort of temper tantrum – an image that made Sarah giggle every time she thought of it. Still, something about Jareth doing that pricked at her.

Grumbling, Sarah threw back the covers and got up, sliding her feet into her slippers as she snatched up the silky navy robe laying across the foot of her bed. As she tugged the robe over her short pajamas, she headed toward her outer door, not really sure where she was going, just sure that she needed out of this room. She pulled the outer door open slowly, then stuck her head into the hall, listening for any sound in the old manor house. All she heard was the sound of the grandfather clock in the hall and the occasional creek as the house settled. Releasing a shaking breath she had been holding, she stepped into the hall and shut the door behind her with a quiet click. Without thinking about it, she turned and started walking. When she first arrived at the manor, the dark, shadowy halls were foreign, and somewhat frightening, yet tonight she found them oddly comforting, the dark shadows seeming to wrap around her like a warm blanket, soothing her.

Before she knew it she found herself in Jareth's study. Blinking Sarah looked around, vaguely confused as to how she got there. When she left her room she had thought to go down to the media room or to the kitchen for a cup of warm milk, yet here she was, sitting in Jareth's desk chair, his scent surrounding her. She breathed in deep, her eyes falling shut as she let the smell of leather, spices and musk seep into her very soul. As much as she still felt in her heart that attached to him was wrong, she couldn't deny that there was something about his presence that seemed to soothe the burning ache inside her.

"It's just the bond… I just have to be strong and it will go away," she muttered to herself, even as she leaned back in his chair, turning her head to inhale the heady scent of him that clung to the leather of the chair. Sighing she let the leather cradle her body and for a fleeting moment found herself imagining it was his arms and body that cradled her.

"Jareth," she sighed softly, her eyes shut while her fingers caressed the smooth surface of the seat next to her.

"Sarah?"

Gasping, she sat upright and looked around, before noticing the gentle glow of the crystal in the golden holder on Jareth's desk. As she watched, his face came into focus, grey-blue eyes narrowing as he peered at her.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

Absently she found herself rubbing the bonding mark through her t-shirt, the sensation soothing her almost immediately.

"Yes…sorry…I was…" she began, then sighed. "To be honest, I couldn't sleep. I'm just sick of my room…I guess."

Jareth gave her a warm smile and nodded, his eyes twinkling conspiratorially at her through the shimmering skin of the crystal, "Mum and Maeve kept you locked away, hmm. Sorry about that."

Sarah found herself returning his smile, the mark under her hand seeming to tingle pleasantly now, "How did you know?"

"Oh, Father kept me posted," he said with a quiet laugh. "I'm sorry they kept you confined. I know how dreary that must have been for you." He chuckled as her jade eyes narrowed further, her lips drawn in a hard line.

"Easy for you to say. They didn't keep you stuck in bed for almost a week," she grumbled, pouting.

Jareth shook his head and gave her a grin. "True, but then again, you bore the brunt of the illness, Sarah. They were worried about you," he said, then his smile faded a bit, his gaze serious. "We all were, Precious."

For once, Sarah found that she didn't want to yell at him for calling her that. Instead she felt her throat tighten, the familiar feeling of tears stinging uncomfortably at the edges of her eyes. "You didn't call…or…or anything," she muttered quietly, hating the way her words came out as a broken whisper.

Seeing the way her eyes darted away from his, Jareth wanted nothing more than to reach out and turn her face back toward him, to reassure her. But he could not. Sighing, he nodded silently. "I'm sorry, Sarah. Mother and Maeve felt it would be best to give you space and time to come to terms with everything that is going on. They were afraid that even talking to me might set your emotions off again and lead to the return of the fever."

"Oh," she muttered, her finger tracing idle designs on the blotter as she avoided his gaze.

Jareth could feel her despondency through the familial link, but found himself frowning as he wondered about the undercurrent of jealousy that accompanied it.  _What could she possibly be jealous of_  – he mused.

"Sarah," he said, the sound of his name rolling from her tongue making her shiver inside. "Please…look at me."

He watched as she nibbled her lower lip, then slowly raised her head to look at him, her moss-green eyes shining with the tell-tale signs of unshed tears. Smiling warmly at her, he felt something inside him ache at the hint of her tears. The thought that she was in some way upset because he had not spoken to her puzzled him.  _Could she really miss me?_  – he wondered, feeling a brief surge of warmth flood him at that idea.

"Sarah… it is not because I didn't want to talk to you. I need you to understand that," he explained, longing to reach out and caress her cheek. "It was only because no one knew how you might respond and we didn't want the fever to return."

Sarah was silent for a long moment, then nodded, her whispered words almost inaudible, "I understand. And…um…I'msorryforbeingabitchtoyou." Opening her mouth to speak again, she stopped, confusion showing in her eyes as she felt an electric sizzle run up her spine and seem to lodge in her head, at the same moment that Jareth grimaced slightly, his lips pulling back from his teeth.

"I must go, Precious," he sighed, regret etched on his face.

Shaking her head to clear the electric sensation from her mind, she frowned, "What was that?"

"What, Sarah?" Jareth asked, tilting his head in his owlish manner as he looked at her, his body fighting to take his full Goblin King form, while he held it in check so as not to startle her unnecessarily

"That…I don't know how to describe it…electric feeling. You felt it too. I know you did," she said, unsure how she knew that, but nonetheless knowing her words were true.

Arching an eyebrow at her, Jareth nodded, "Indeed. That is the sign that a child is being wished away," he replied, then stopped as the sensation slid up his spine again. He watched in wonder as Sarah flinched this time.  _She shouldn't be feeling the call…only the Goblin Queen should feel the call_ – he wondered in shock.

"Is it always like that?" she asked, rubbing at the back of her head where the electric lance seemed to lodge itself.

"No, it will get worse if I don't answer the call," he said, his form starting to flicker as the call became stronger. "I must go, Precious. But…I'll talk to you again soon."

She nodded, preparing herself for him to disappear from the crystal, even as he seemed to reach toward the surface, touching it from the inside.

"I promise, Sarah," he said, then vanished, leaving her alone, with the knowledge that he would talk to her soon. She knew without a doubt in her mind, that Jareth had not given her a mere 'promise' that was easily broken – this had been a vow. And if there was one thing she had learned while listening to tales of Jareth's past from Auberon, Jareth took his vows seriously.

"I'll hold you to that, Goblin King," she whispered, her fingers lightly caressing the now clear crystal.

Sighing, Sarah stood up, feeling lost and lonely once more. Thinking over what she had just experienced and heard, she began to find her way back through the darkened halls of the manor. She didn't think about where she was going, her mind ticking over everything that had happened since Jareth took charge of Toby and herself. As much as she wanted to hate him for it, it was becoming harder and harder to find that level of anger inside herself. Like it or not, in fulfilling the requests of her father's will, he was doing more for the two of them than Sarah would have been able to do. Of course, there was still the issue of having any sort of 'romantic' or 'improper' feelings toward him. She knew that such a thing was 'wrong', yet there was a small part of her that sometimes questioned  _why_ it was wrong. Technically she was of age here and she was merely his ward, not his child. So, in reality, while it could be considered unethical by some people, the truth of the matter was that it wasn't. It wasn't like he was grooming her to be his child bride – was he?

As she let her mind twist itself in knots, her feet moved as if on auto-pilot through the halls, leading her over the plush carpets that lined the darkened corridoors, until she found herself standing in front of a heavily carved door - A door she recognized because she had never been through it. The door to Jareth's rooms.

Hesitantly she looked at the carved figures on the door, biting her lip nervously. The whole door seemed to breathe with a life of its own.  _It can't hurt to touch the door_  – she reasoned, while her libido nodded encouragement and her inner-self looked torn, as if trying desperately to come up with a valid reason not to touch it, and drawing a blank.

Sarah felt her hand drawn toward it, gently placing it on the wood. The moment she touched it, the mark on her skin seemed to buzz slightly, then the latch on the door popped, and the door opened without any help from Sarah. Blinking, she felt her heart hammering in her chest as she looked around to see if Titania had heard the door. Sarah held her breath and waited, frozen to the spot. When no other sound could be heard in the hall, she steeled herself and stepped into Jareth's private sitting room then jumped and bit back a squeak as the door swung shut behind her, closing with a barely audible click.

' _Turn back Sarah…turn back before it is too late,'_  she heard whispered in her mind and looked around frantically, still finding herself alone in Jareth's private quarters.

Pearl teeth worried her lower lip, as her eyes gradually adjusted to the dimly illuminated room. The moonlight spilled in from the balcony windows, casting faded shadows over the furniture and walls. Without thinking about what she was doing, she walked over to a table and flipped the switch on the tiffany styled lamp sitting upon it. The lamp glowed to life, making the golden mosaic dragons on the lampshade seem to flutter. Still nervous about being caught in Jareth's rooms, Sarah's breathing was shallow as she slowly peered around his sitting room. The walls were covered in a deep navy blue wallpaper, with a lighter steel blue design running over it. Absently she dragged her fingertips lightly over the wall, enjoying the sleek feel of the silk brocade wallpaper.

 _He's got good taste_  – she mused as she continued around the room, touching nothing but the brief caress of the wall –  _Not like I would expect anything else from the Goblin King._

There were two bookshelves filled with books and knick-knacks. Leaning close to one of the shelves, Sarah inhaled deeply and smiled as the scent of old books and ink filled her, reminding her of her time spent in the dusty, disused upper stacks of the university library back home – it was one of her favourite places to hide from those who wanted to bully her at school. Glancing over the shelves, she saw a golden astralobe on one shelf, and an antique eye exam set upon another. Scattered over the shelves were a range of antique scientific items. On another bookshelf she saw what appeared to be a medieval manuscript, the heavily illuminated pages held open in a golden holder, while the whole thing was encased in a glass box. Examining the manuscript, she bit back a giggle realizing that the carefully inked sketch on the right-hand page was of the Goblin King himself, the whole thing dated from 1430.

 _Hmm…clearly it's good to be king_  – she chuckled to herself as she continued walking through his parlor.

The carpet underfoot was thick and soft, a navy background with a golden design of icanthus leaves swirling over it. Between the two large bookcases was a large fireplace, the border and mantel made of heavy mahogany, heavily carved with what appeared to be dragons and nymphs. Sitting on the marble edging of the hearth was a metal basket adorned with metal-work goblins holding the fireplace tools aloft, to be used on the wood that lay in the grate, ready to be lit.

Just like her parlor, Jareth too had a comfortable couch, covered in what appeared to be dark blue velvet, and a lounge chair of navy and gold brocade, the design a pair of unicorns with their noses nuzzling each other, upon their crossed horns they supported a golden crown. Without realizing it, she reached out and lightly traced the lovely design, relishing the feeling of the lush fabric under her fingertips. On the table next to the chair she saw a book, open, but placed with the pages down upon the table, as if it had been put down in the middle of reading. Running her fingers across the seat of the chair she smiled, feeling the tell-tale indentations of someone sitting there – often.

 _This must be Jareth's favourite seat_ – she thought, sucking on her bottom lip as she debated sitting in it for a moment, then shook her head.

Sarah turned from the chair and looked toward the door situated several feet behind it.  _His bedroom. It has to be, since it is the only other door out of this room, other than the one leading to the hall_  – she reasoned, while her libido gave a sultry purr, nudging her to go through the door.  _A peek won't hurt…after all, the door is already partly open._ Her libido quivered in anticipation at that, neither of them noticing that her inner-voice was remarkably silent on the matter, having shut down in sheer panic of being caught snooping around Jareth's private rooms.

As she neared his room, warning bells went off in her mind as her inner-voice found its tongue again.  _Why are we even in here?! We have no business here. Leave now!_  – her inner-self hissed, until Sarah moved closer to the door, which incited it to full on panic mode -  _Don't do it! Don't do it! He'll catch you!_

 _Catch you…throw you on his own bed and ravish you. Sounds like a win-win proposition to me_! – chirped her libido, flashing up images of Jareth in the tunnels, with particular attention being drawn to the incredibly tight trousers which seemed to paint a very intriguing image that hinted at the 'great' potential of that which he 'hid' (barely) under that material.

Swallowing hard, Sarah ignored both of them and moved on silent steps toward the door, the darkened opening seeming to beckon her closer. She paused just before it, peeking hesitantly through the gap and seeing nothing but darkness.

"In for a penny…in for a pound," she whispered to herself and pushed the door open.

Like his parlor, his bedroom was lushly decorated and furnished with heavy mahogany pieces that exuded a darkly seductive air – even without Jareth in the room. The bed was set against the wall in the same position as Sarah's own bed. From the sheer size of it, she knew it was larger than a standard king-sized bed, with a thick, carved pillar rising toward the ceiling from each of the corners. Draped around each of the pillars were semi-sheer curtains, which were such a dark shade of red they appeared almost black in the dim light of the room. The bed itself was covered in a deep crimson comforter, with heavy black embroidery covering it. At the head of the bed was a mass of pillows.

 _I wonder if he sleeps on one side or sleeps in the middle_  – she wondered as she looked at the bed, her fingers itching to reach out and touch it.

Moving closer to the head of the bed she noticed another book on the nightstand sitting on the right of the bed. The sight of the book made her smile.  _So this is 'his' side_  – she thought, bending over to see what he was reading in bed. Seeing the title, she blushed and stepped back as if burned. It was her punishment book.

Sarah took a slow, deep breath trying to calm herself, only to find that she was now bathed in his scent, just as she had been in his desk chair. Breathing deeply, she sighed, so engrossed in drinking in the scent that she didn't notice the bureau mirror behind her ripple slightly, a pair of mismatched blue-grey eyes watching her silently.

Looking down, she noticed a fold of fabric tucked under the bottom-most pillow. Curiosity got the better of her then, and she leaned in, gingerly lifting the pillow a bit until she saw just what the fabric was. Folded neatly beneath the pillow were a t-shirt and pair of lounging pants that Sarah remembered quite vividly – Jareth's pajamas. Sarah bit her lip thoughtfully, then picked the small bundle up and held it to her nose. Inhaling deeply, a soft moan escaped her as the stronger scent of him rushed through her, making the mark on her chest pulse strongly in a way that made her physically quiver. Without stopping to think about what she was doing, Sarah dropped his clothes on the bed and impulsively pulled her own t-shirt over her head, letting it fall on the bed next to his clothes.

Shadowed within the surface of the mirror, the mismatched eyes widened in surprise at her sudden movement. Jareth felt the disturbance in his rooms the moment Sarah set foot within them, but knew it had to be someone that his magic recognized as family, or else alarms would have been sounding throughout the Goblin Castle. Watching her, he nearly gave himself away with a groan, as the moonlight caressed the gentle curves of her bare breasts, allowing him the briefest of tantalizing glimpses of pale skin and rosy peaks, just before she tugged his own pajama shirt over her head. Still surprised at her actions, Jareth watched as Sarah sighed deeply, a soft smile on her face. She wrapped her arms around herself, seeming to embrace her own body. Smiling, he noticed the way she was nibbling on her bottom lip, like she often did when she was nervous and debating something, her jade eyes dark and deep in thought. As he watched, he became aware of the thickening scent of her arousal swirling around him and throbbing through the familial link. The longer she stood there, the sharper the smell became.

Struggling to fight the pull of her scent that screamed at him to claim and mate, Jareth fisted his hands against his thighs, his jaw tight. Then, when he thought he would be unable to keep her from noticing his spectral presence, Sarah gave a soft whimpered moan and snatched both her own shirt and Jareth's lounging pants from the bed. Clutching them to her chest, she turned and fled from his rooms, unaware of her phantom observer and the scent of her arousal which now bathed him. With a rumbling groan, Jareth let the connection to the mirror fall closed, wondering what had just happened – and why.

 _For a bond that is supposed to be failing, she certainly seems to be acting as if it is growing stronger instead_  – he mused, rolling a crystal thoughtfully over his hands in an attempt to soothe his rattled mind.

With a frown he rose from his bed in his castle chambers, then threw the balcony doors open wide in an effort to wash away the scent of her need which still surrounded him. Not even the evening breeze over the Labyrinth seemed to help. Jareth growled, the scent of Sarah's need seemed to get stronger with every passing moment. Glancing down he saw his fingers wrapped so tightly around the balcony railing that they were stark white.  _This is not good. I haven't felt this kind of a desire since my first time_  – he thought with a grimace. If the bond were normal, he could give in to the pull of her scent; going to her and claiming her as his own – or at the very least helping to ease her need and his. As it was, he was stuck; unable to go to her and left with the depressing knowlege that despite the thick scent of arousal she was putting out, she was neither aware of it, nor did she want it quelled by Jareth, or any other Fae for that matter.

Sighing Jareth sat back on his bed and picked up the small blue vial sitting upon the nightstand. He had suspected something like this would happen at some point during Sarah's l'hrev cycle, he just hadn't expected it to happen so soon, or to be so strong. Uncorking the vial, Jareth leaned his head back and poured the silvery contents onto his tongue, grateful that he had followed his hunch and requested a supply of sleeping droughts from Maeve. Given the fact that he was, for all intents and purposes, bound to Sarah, her scent would affect him most of all, calling to him to cement the bond and claim her. Add to this the fact that he was physically unable to go to her or risk her health, he knew the only respite he would have from her relentless need would be for him to sleep, or for her to do what she must to release the needful desires herself – and judging from the cloying sweetness of her scent that coated his body, she clearly wasn't taking matters into her own hands.

Jareth lay back in his bed, already feeling the first hints of sleep creeping toward the edges of his consciousness. As he drifted to sleep, his last thought was of Sarah.

_Gods…as much torture as the smell of her desire is to me…I hope the bond is strong enough that I am the only one who smells it, or she is in grave danger. Must…check….that…tomorr…._

Then Jareth succumbed to the siren song of slumber.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Sarah looked down, sucking on the tip of her tongue in concentration, as she gave her wrist a twist. The crystal on her fingertips wobbled, then rolled down the side of her hand and off, only to be caught by a leather gloved hand.

"I'll never get the hang of this," she grumbled, watching as Jareth gave a deft twist of his wrist and sent the very same crystal rolling over the planes of his right hand, then his left, back and forth.

Even as he let the crystal dance over his hands with practiced ease, Jareth felt odd about things. There was something off about the situation. He was quite sure she had never been in his chambers at the castle, yet here she was, as if it were the most natural place for her to be. Then there was the overwhelming scent of sex and her continued desire. Her scent surrounded him until it felt as if he were drowning in it, which made sense seeing that she was tucked back between his thighs, her back flush against his bare chest. Feeling silk against his bare flesh, he glanced down and groaned at what he saw. There was a reason he was shirtless – Sarah was wearing his shirt, and from the tantalizing view he had down the deep, wide, v-shaped neckline, that was  _all_  she was wearing. Jareth groaned softly, feeling the immediate tightening in his groin at the sight, a deep purr rumbling low in his chest, the vibration against her back making Sarah giggle.

"It takes practice, Precious," he murmured, his lips near her ear, taking advantage of the way she sitting against him. "Although to be honest, twirling crystals is  _not_  what I'd rather be practicing with you, just now."

Sarah's cheeks flushed, the pink suffusing them making Jareth chuckle and nuzzle them, even as she dropped her elbow and caught him in the ribs.

"You're incorrigible!" she laughed.

Sliding his left arm around her waist and into the opening of the shirt, Jareth's gloved fingers lightly caressed her side and the curve of her breast. "I think you mean insatiable, Precious," he purred, nipping her earlobe as his fingers slid further up her breast. His fingers ghosting over the pale pink tip, marveling at the way it tightened, a soft moan slipping past her lips.

Her scent seemed to grow heavier with the gentle touch. Jareth felt his own breathing falter at the quiet hitch in her breath and the way she leaned further into him. It was then that he knew why the whole situation felt so strange – it was a dream.

"L'hrev," he sighed quietly, his body slumping in disappointment.

Sarah's laugh was bright and sparkling, bouncing off the walls of his chambers. "L'hrev? Come on Jareth… that stopped months ago, remember?" She turned her body until she had her legs draped over his thighs, her hands seeming to burn him as she caressed his chest, peppering the firm planes with warm kisses. "Once we made our claim on one another," she murmured against his flesh.

Jareth groaned at the sensation, shivering and sliding one arm around her under the thin silk of the shirt, while his other hand teased up her back and threaded into her thick hair. The scent of her practically suffocated him now, her parted thighs making it stronger still. Growling low in his throat, he tugged her head back and began to kiss and nip the tender flesh of her throat, each touch of her lips making her gasp and moan his name.

"Jareth…" she whimpered, her voice low and breathy. "Don't tease…"

This was a shared dream, of that he was sure. The scent of her desire set his blood roaring through his veins. Glancing down he noticed a small black mark on her sternum. Something in the back of his mind roared in anguish at the sight – it wasn't his mark. Yet from the way she responded to him and his body responded to her, they  _must_  be bonded mates.

 _What's going on_  – he wondered, even as their bodies continued to drive the need in each other.

Jareth's back arched and he gave a low hiss, as Sarah flicked her tongue around his nipple. Tightening his hand in her hair, he pulled her head back, drinking in her hooded gaze and the way her cranberry colored lips pulled back against her teeth, her mouth open in a moan. He dipped his head, his lips teasing her with the promise of a kiss. Each time she arched toward his lips, he pulled her head back away from them, his pale eyes drinking in her need. With the lightest of touches, he flicked his tongue across her lower lips, rewarded with a breathless whine of protest from Sarah. With agonizing slowness he lowered his lips to hers, relishing the velvety softness of them and the way they parted immediately, inviting him to taste her more deeply – an invitation he gladly took. There was a dream intimacy to the kiss, the teasing caress of his tongue against hers, melding with her soft moans, that he swallowed as if they were fine wine.

Sarah's hands drifted up the back of his head, twisting into the feathery wisps she found there. With a quiet purr, she succumbed to the kiss, arching toward him, her parted thighs rocking the heated center of her against him in a way that made his blood burn once more. He could feel the magic of the bond pulling at him, demanding that he claim his mate.

A hungry growl rumbled in his chest as he broke the kiss, guiding the willing woman wrapped around him to lay back on the cushions of the window seat, her legs still draped over his thighs. His hungry gaze drank in the sight of her, milky flesh laid bare before him as the shirt fell open, exposing her breasts. Jareth's lips twisted in a knowing grin as her green eyes feasted upon him in turn, the emerald depths darkening when he slowly began to peel the leather gloves from his hands. Dropping the gloves on the floor, he dragged his fingertips down the front of her body, teasing them around the sumptuous flesh of her exposed breasts. Sarah arched and gasped, a shiver running through her as he lightly pinched a nipple, rolling it between his fingertips, an electric sensation skittering across her skin at his touch. His fingers teased between the silken mounds, swirling around the strange black mark before running a single fingertip over it, the feel of the fine raised lines struck a chord deep inside him. It was his mark – partially, but what were the twisting lines surrounding it.

When his fingertips caressed the mark, he saw her shudder violently and gasp in pleasure, while he felt his groin throb as a surge of pure desire shot through him. He blinked in surprise, then grunted as he touched the mark again and another jolt of lust lanced into him. Whatever it was, it had power.

Slowly Jareth teased his fingers down the front of her, letting them dance delicately over her flesh and the silk, while drinking in the soft mewls and sighs that shivered from her parted lips. Sarah arched toward the touch of his fingers caressing her stomach through the thin silk, her movement pushing her thighs wider over his thighs. With a dark purr, Jareth let his fingers trail down the inside of her thighs, before teasing them upward over the heated flesh of her core.

Sarah gasped his name, shivering under his gentle touch, "Please!"

"With pleasure," he murmured, the scent of her need filling him, as he slid two fingers into her.

He leaned forward over her, his heated mouth wrapping around a pale pink bud and sucking, as his fingers curled inside her grasping walls. While his lips and tongue teased the nipple tenderly, his fingers worked her with forceful strokes that made her moan and writhe. The further he pushed her toward her peak, the stronger the scent of need became, until it pulled almost painfully at him, demanding that he pin her down and stake his claim upon her body. Clenching his jaw, he fought the urge, focusing on her pleasure as his fingers began to rock inside her, pressing inside her as he searched for the spot that would make her come undone.

He smirked at the way her body jerked under him, his fingers stroking the spot again as she keened and shuddered violent.

"Jareth!" she cried out, her hands fisting into her hair as her body bowed, pushing the tight peak further into his mouth.

Jareth could feel the velvet walls fluttering wildly around his fingers, massaging them as she succumbed to his touch, the scent of her need fading immediately – along with the dream. With the feeling of her still clenching his fingers tightly, Jareth groaned as he felt himself falling, then woke in his own bed at the castle. Alone.

Rolling over, a deep sigh rumbled out of him. He thumped his pillow restlessly, trying to ignore the painful throbbing in his groin. Even though he had realized it was a dream, he didn't know when it would end, and he had rather hoped he might find his own pleasure, in a way that wouldn't risk fully claiming her. Yet, the dream was Sarah's, and she held the power.

Still frowning, Jareth pulled a shimmering crystal from air and peering into it. He smiled at the sight that greeted him, Sarah curled under her covers, wearing his pajama shirt, a relaxed smile gracing her lovely face. Despite his own discomfort, her smile made his heart swell warmly.

"Sleep well, Precious," he murmured, watching as she murmured softly in her sleep.

"Hmm…Jareth…" she muttered with a content sigh, her sleep deepening further.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

The moon hung large and bright over the grounds of Cadwalader Academy, creating elongated shadows that seemed to shimmer and shift along the edges of the buildings. High above the quad, the clock tower gave a mechanical click-click-clicking sound, just moments before the large bronze bell began to toll the hour with two great gongs of sound that echoed across the silent grounds of the school. Lost to sleep, no one saw the lone figure making their way through the shadows from the student dormitory toward the fine arts building at the back of the campus. Silvery moonlight glinted over short hair as the person paused at the door of the building, peering around silently, then slipping through the double doors.

Hunching his shoulders deeper into his sweatshirt the boy made his way through the darkened building to the stage door of the theatre. Once there, he stopped, his hand hovering over the door knob, uncertainty clouding his eyes, before his resolve returned and he turns the knob. Taking a deep breath he stepped into the darkness of the backstage area. He knew he had no choice. Not really. His choice had been made two years ago when he had made a wish – a wish he never really believed would be answered. Yet it was. And now he was forever in debt to the being that answered.

The boy felt a shiver go through him as he neared the mirror set atop the antique vanity in the back of the theatre's storage area. He could feel the magic pulsing already and knew that his Master was close. Even after two years, he always felt the cold spear of dread slide into his heart at the impending arrival of his Master. He didn't ask for this, not really. Sighing he tried to push the feelings aside, letting himself get caught up in the unfairness of his situation wouldn't help matters any.

 _One careless wish….that's all it was…how was I to know He'd take it serious…words have power…what's said it said….how was I to know?_  – he whispered silently in the far corner of his mind, the only place he felt was safe from his Master's view, and even then, he wasn't sure if anywhere was really safe.  _Shh…he'll hear you…he'll know_  – whimpered his inner-self, cowering deep in the sheltered recesses of his mind.

One careless wish and now he was mere property of a being he never believed existed in the first place.

 _It could be worse, you could be like the others_  – whispered his mind, still cowering as the chiming of magic teased at his skin, making him feel physically ill.

At times he thought being a catatonic like the Master's other slaves would be a blessing, at least then he wouldn't know what perverted and horrible things the Master would make him do, or worse yet…do  _to_  him. He felt a cold hand slide over his shoulder, even through the thick layers of his sweatshirt, and a shiver ran down his spine. Already he could feel his senses becoming blurry, it was always hard to fight against the will of the Master.

"Ahh…you're here, my sweet pet," purred the crisply accented voice, as cold lips caressed his ear, making bile rise in his throat. The boy swallowed hard, forcing down the vomit that threatened each time his Master's lips touched him. If he could just be compliant, let the Master do what he would, then the boy could return to his dorm and pretend this was not a part of his life – being the plaything of a supernatural being with deviant tastes.

"Tell me, pet…did you miss my caress this past week?" demanded the Master. The boy could feel the sharp prick of the Master's fingernails even through the layers of material that covered him. He felt himself being drawn back against the Master's firm chest, the feel of the Master's hard length already burning icily against the boy's lower back, making him flinch and whine pitifully.

"Y-yes…Master," he managed to whimper, hanging his head against the fear and embarrassment that flooded him, just as a wave of unbidden desire coursed through him. As much as he hated the Master and what he did, there was always this sense of 'need' that came with the Master's touch. In the beginning of his slavery, he thought perhaps the 'need' was a trick, something the Master forced upon him to keep him from fighting – now however, he wasn't sure.

"Now now…you know what to call me," chuckled the Master with a dark, rumbling laugh. "Say it properly or you shall be punished, my boy."

Gulping, the boy moaned as the feel of the Master's hand sliding around his hip, then under the low hanging sweatshirt.

"Silly little pet, as if bulky clothes would keep me from what belongs to me," cooed the Master, his hand drifting lower to cup the boy's genitals, which physically shrank from the icy touch that shivered through the layers of denim. The icy hand squeezed, letting the sharp nails of the Master's hand dig into the tender flesh of the boy despite the material covering him, making the boy whimper in pain. "Now…say it," ordered the Master.

"Yes, Goblin King," murmured, the boy, feeling his mind grow clouded as the Master began to strip him, then bent him over the old wood of the vanity, until he could see only his own face and the shadowed figure of the Master behind him, then blissfully he was able to pull his conscious mind away from what was happening to him.

The boy didn't know how long he was used by the Master, only that it was long enough that he felt icy wetness coating the backs of his thighs, and sticking coldly to the denim of his jeans. Blinking in confusion, he stood up, the glowing eyes of the Master peering at him over his shoulder in the mirror.

"The runner, Sarah Williams ….she is in your orchestra class," asked the Master, even though the boy knew there was nothing about his life that the Master did not know.

"Yes…Mast…um…Goblin King," the boy mumbled, making the Master laugh, the sound sending tendrils of fear through him.

"Take the vial and anoint the girl with the liquid inside it. Then make sure she is in the ash groove at the stroke of midnight on Samhain. When you have done that, I will give you what you want most in the world…and what is that, my sweet pet?" the Master purred, his lips curling in an evil grin as he pressed them to the boy's neck.

"My freedom…" sobbed the boy, while the Master's teeth grazed the tender flesh of his neck.

"Yes…your freedom. Bring me the girl and it is yours. A wish…for a wisher. Fair trade, don't you think, pet?" the Master said with a sinister laugh.

"Yes…" whimpered the boy, his voice cracking with renewed fear. If the Master wanted Sarah Williams, he couldn't even begin to fathom what level of depraved torture he had in mind for her. As much as it pained him to do as the Master bid him, he would do it. Chivalry was dead – at least for this servant of the Goblin King.

The Master continued to chuckle, even as he faded from view. "Then again…it depends upon your basis for comparison, sweet pet."

Looking down the boy saw a black crystal vial with a red jeweled stopper sitting on the vanity. He bit his lip as he picked it up, then secreted it within the pocket of his sweatshirt.

If Sarah Williams was the price of his freedom, then that was a price he was willing to pay.


	19. Dating and Other Disasters

**50 Shades of Fey**

**Ch. 19: Dating and Other Disasters**

**Trigger Warning:** Assault (not graphic), period/menstruation, sex (not necessarily in that order)

 **Author’s Note:** First off, please forgive the typos. I know there are several throughout the chapter -- I'll be correcting them when work eases up a bit. Sorry for the delay darlings. Work has picked up and on top of that my muse is being difficult. The next chapter may be a couple weeks in the writing. I’m also still battling a bunch of ‘new’ Jareth/Sarah ideas and sorting through which can be written as one-shots and which demand longer stories (sadly, most of them need to be written as longer stories, and there are only so many hours a day I can devote to writing).

* * *

 

Endless torture. That was the only way to describe what was currently happening in the Goblin King’s throne room, and the victim of the soul-sucking torture was none other than the Goblin King himself. The muscles in his jaw ticked tightly as he listened to yet another petition regarding chickens, their ownership and disagreements regarding said ownership. It was always like this. Once a month he held a special court specifically for the goblins, so as not to clutter up his regular court dates with ridiculous petitions involving chickens, the Bog of Eternal Stench and other petty complaints. And even though it was his idea to separate goblin court petitions from the general Labyrinthian citizenry, that didn’t make goblin court days any easier to bear.

Jareth barely shifted in his throne as he pulled his crop from the air and began to tap it impatiently against his calf while glaring at yet another petitioner gripping a hapless black chicken who squawked indignantly at her treatment. For the most part, Jareth didn’t even deal with such petty issues, preferring to let his major domo Nerissa take care of them. Tilting his head, the feathery wisps of hair that stuck out wildly from his head fell back as he glanced at her. He could see from the rigid steel that ran up her spine and the narrowing of her yellow eyes that she was beyond frustrated with the endless stream of chicken oriented complaints. Jareth fought the urge to laugh at her frustration. It really was most cruel of him to ask a she-wolf, and Alpha for the Labyrinthian pack, to deal with such nonsense, but she was the Major Domo for the court, it was her job. O

Breathing deeply to try to cleanse his nose of the stench of chicken shit, he frowned – the smell was still there, just as it had been everywhere he went for the last four days.

Sarah’s need.

The Goblin King tried desperately to ignore it, but it was becoming more difficult with each passing day. Ever since Sarah had started to wear his t-shirt (and sometimes even his lounging pants) to bed, the scent of her had seemed to constantly coat him, surrounding him in a dense fog of her desire that pulled incessantly at the primitive part of him, demanding that he rush to her and give in to the feral need to claim her and mate her.

Ignoring yet another petition about chicken ownership, Jareth peered down at the crystal that had appeared unbidden in his hand, seeing Sarah’s image dancing across the shimmering skin. This was yet another worrisome side-effect of the bond. It took him two days to figure out why his scrying magic had become unstable. He wasn’t until he had resigned himself to seeking Maeve’s counsel on the issue that he understood that it wasn’t his magic that was unstable, it was Sarah’s emotions and needs. His magic was responding in the only way it could since he was barred from going to her – it was letting him see her whenever she was thinking about him. Once he realized that, he was less bothered by it, until he began to count the number of Sarah crystals that appeared in his hands each day and realized just how often she was thinking of him. Worse than that, as far as his primal instincts to claim and mate his bonded queen were concerned, he was forced to watch each time she tried to release some of her pent up hormonal energy – and failed.

Ever since Sarah’s l’hrev cycle had started he had been pulled into her sleeping dreams and been forced to watch her waking attempts to sate her desire on her own. In her dreams at least he could help – or attempt to. But something had changed. Each time he brought her close to the peak, she shut down emotionally, her fear seeming to clamp down upon the familial link, sending them both crashing to wakefulness, where neither of their desires were fulfilled. The first time it happened, Jareth had woken with a crystal already in his hand. With a sigh he looked into it, watching as Sarah curled onto her side, one hand grasping at her nipple through the thin cotton of his shirt that encased her body, her other hand sliding lower. He didn’t need to see beneath the covers of her bed to know where those delicate fingers were headed. Her gasping moan and the sleek arch of her back under the sheet were enough to tell him she was seeking her release, manually as it were.

He tried to turn away. Not to look. It was wrong and he knew she would be furious if she ever found out. This was too intimate. But try as he might, he couldn’t. The bond wouldn’t let him. He was forced to watch helplessly. The sound of her panting his name and pleading with him to let her find her release made his heart ache, while his groin throbbed with a need of his own.

Seconds stretched into minutes and his frustration grew with hers. He knew without a doubt that were he there, he would have her writhing and screaming her release in seconds, squirming against his fingers –unless he used his tongue, in which case it would be even faster. Yet he could do nothing to help her. The minutes dragged on, until her hair stuck limp and wet to her forehead, while his shirt was soaked in her sweat, mixed with the scent of her primal need.  And still she struggled on, desperately trying for her release. Forty minutes later she gave up, sobbing in desperation and need.  Only then could he look away, his heart breaking a bit at her pain.

Jareth sighed, letting the crystal evaporate as he stretched out in his bed. The force of her need had driven his own, until the tight pull in his core was twisting into a painful ache. He had no idea why she was struggling so, but that didn’t mean he needed to fully share her suffering.  Shutting his eyes, Jareth blocked the familial link, locking himself away from Sarah’s desire, frustration and desperation, and let himself drink in the scent of her arousal which clung to him. A low groan slid past his lips at the feel of his fingers, slowly but firmly wrapping around the heated length, which was already slick with his own desires. Arching and growling with each twisting caress of his hand, he tried. Gods how he tried.

“Close…so…close…” he panted, his breath hot and harsh in his own ears.

Yet every time he reached the peak, the sensation would flee, dropping him down once more.

 _It’s that damn bond_ – grumbled his libido, continuing to give him a slideshow of all the ways he wanted to take Sarah, each one more deviant than the next in an effort to find the elusive crest of pleasure.

Finally, Jareth roared, slamming a barrage of crystals against the wall opposite his bed as he gave up, knowing that until Sarah found her pleasure once more, his chance of finding it was gone as well.

And all the while the scent of her need grew more powerful.

Needless to say, neither of them had gotten much sleep over the past few days.

Tuning out the endless drone of goblin complaints, Jareth glanced into the crystal in his hand, his pale eyes clouded at what he saw. He hated seeing the exhaustion on her face, deep purple smudges of sleeplessness and despair coloring the skin under her eyes which were a faded, mossy color instead of their usual vibrant emerald. It was times like this that made him wonder if they would die of exhaustion before the bond finally failed and freed them from this hormonal hell.

 _Death would be a blessing compared to this!_ – groused his libido, leaving Jareth and his inner-self in staunch agreement.

Still reluctant to witness her fruitless attempts to release the bond energy which consumed her, Jareth felt his eyes drawn to the crystal, and he bit back a heated groan. _The bath. Gods. Why does she have to be in the bath?_ – he growled inwardly. While watching her like this was always difficult, he preferred it when she was at least clothed and under the covers of her bed. Somehow it felt less intrusive to see her like that, even though he knew full well what she was doing. His lips pulled in a tight line as the scent of her increased exponentially, each breath of the delicate perfume of her desire setting is blood alight.

Jareth glanced at Nerissa to see if she had noticed his discomfort, only to be surprised by the dark glow in the Lupine Huntress’s eyes. Her nose twitched and she looked around curiously, sniffing the air. Through the last few days, Jareth and his mother had been monitoring others to see if anyone else was reacting to Sarah’s pheromones. As it turned out only a few Underground creatures around the manor seemed to notice the scent, and even then only those who were closest to Sarah’s private quarters, so it was an easy thing to protect her by restricting access to Sarah and her rooms to mortal servants only. Still watching Nerissa, Jareth felt a pang of jealous possessiveness rush through him when he saw the wolfess’s fangs start to descend, her eyes shifting as her fingernails began to lengthen into black claws. She was responding to Sarah’s scent, and Sarah wasn’t even in the throne room, let alone the Underground.

 _She’s catching Sarah’s scent on me_ – he realized with a start.

Rising swiftly, Jareth snarled, “Court dismissed! Any petitioners who have not had their complaints heard can see the Major Domo in her offices at 13 o’clock this afternoon!”

The goblins attending court stopped their chattering and gawked at their king, blinking in confusion as he shimmered then disappeared. As the glitter sparkled in the air, the goblins gave a great cheer, their petty squabbles all but forgotten at his display of magic.

If only Jareth could forget his problems as easily.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

“No, no. No! Are you sure it is Wednesday? You lot are playing like it is the longest Monday in history!” yelled Professor Quinn, struggling to be heard over the chaotic sound of the orchestra as they stopped the current piece at different places and times. “Strings…with the exception of the violins under Ms. Omicioli’s direction, you are coming in too early and wood winds, you are staying too late! Flutes you are doing fine, except for you Ms. Kent – you snuck into Ms. Williams’ solo in the fourth movement. Don’t think I didn’t notice. And the rest of you…you’re just…a mess!” He flapped his hand wildly at the class as a whole, then sighed as he glanced at the clock on the wall, shaking his head. “Okay, no sense starting again today. I want everyone to practice their timing and we will try again during our long rehearsal Friday afternoon.”

Looking up, Sarah caught the way Angel grinned at her and rolled her eyes as she started to tuck her violin away in its case. Sarah pulled a bit of an old t-shirt from her case and began to clean her flute, grasping the shiny instrument carefully. It had only been three days since she was allowed to return to classes, but despite the continued ways that Marcy tried to under mine her, it felt good to be back in what was rapidly becoming her ‘routine’. And while her routine was somewhat ‘old’ at some ways, the flute was new – to her at least.

When she returned from school Monday afternoon, there was a wrapped package waiting for her on the marble table in the front foyer. Sarah hadn’t been too surprised to see Jareth’s sharply leaning script on the card with her name on the front. Taking the package to her study, she pulled the wrapping off to find a worn but very expensively made flute case, with a card laying atop it.  Sarah still felt a gentle warmth inside her at the words of his note.

_Sarah –_

_I know you would have heard the wedding verse for luck – ‘Something old – Something new – Something borrowed – Something blue’. The words are essentially mortal ‘luck magic’ and they apply to more than just marriages, but also new adventures. I would hope that you come to see your new life as one of my court and family, to be a new adventure. As such, rather than purchasing a new flute for you, I have found an old one, with a lovely history. This flute has played for kings and queens, presidents and peasants. It has traveled your world, as well as my own. And now, it is yours -- To be played by a Champion who defeated an arrogant King._

_May you play it with great health and joy for many years to come._

_~J_

In her 17 years, this was the kindest, most thoughtful gift anyone had ever given her – And it sounded like a dream. Still lost in her reverie, she tucked the flute carefully in its case and snapped it just, not noticing the commotion behind her until it was too late.

“Oi! Watch it Phil!” Angus grumbled from behind her, then in the next instant there was the clanging of instruments, cases and metal chairs, and a cascade of something cold and wet doused Sarah’s head and back.

Screaming she flew from her seat, icy liquid seeping through her blouse and skirt, to run down her back and legs. It slid down her body in cold rivulets, pooling in her shoes and on the faded blue carpet of the orchestra room.

“What the Hell?!” she yelped, glaring at the boys who made up the trumpet section, most of the boys snickered and started to guffaw, despite her anger.

“Oh fuck,” Angus said, remorse etched across his handsome face as he fumbled with the now almost empty soft drink cup. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. It’s Phil’s fault. He was reaching for the cup and…oh shit. I really am sorry,” he said, while his friends started to laugh harder.

“It isn’t exactly a wet t-shirt contest, but we’ll take it,” chuckled Steve, brushing a fall of dark hair from his face as he leered at her.

“Nice tits,” howled Mark, collapsing on a chair and making obscene gestures with his tongue. “Just take the shirt off already,” another boy called.

Sarah growled, her green eyes flickering angrily at Steve and the others, “You’re pigs! All of you,” she snapped, gingerly picking up her school blazer to keep from dripping too much soda on it. A hand with purple sparkly painted nails reached around her and took it, then grabbed her backpack.

“And gigantic dickheads,” added Angel, her hazel eyes hard and unforgiving.

Angus watched the two girls turn and walk toward the door, clearly trying to pretend there wasn’t a loud squishing sound coming from Sarah’s shoes. She left sticky footprints across the carpet, soda squeezing from her socks and shoes with every angry step. When they opened the classroom door, a burst of giggling and laughter from Marcy and her pack of friends drifted into the room, setting off the boys once more. The catcalls and gestures left Angus with the bitter taste of bile creeping up his throat. He watched as she slunk out of the room, casting a brief glance in his direction, her deep green eyes shining with tears. When she had disappeared down the hall, he snarled and rounded on his friends. Turning, he dumped the rest of the drink on Phil’s head, before crushing the cup on the sticky mess of soda-covered hair.

“You idiot! I told you not to mess with that damn drink,” he growled, then grabbed his bag and headed toward the door, leaving Phil blinking stupidly in surprise, while the other boys now laughed at him.

In the hall Angus looked around, trying to find Sarah again, only to hear a sultry purr from his side, as a manicured hand caressed his arm. “Hi Angus…” cooed Marcy, batting her eyelashes at him with a suggestive smile. “I was wondering if you’d like to take me to the movies Friday night. You know the girl’s dorm monitor is Kelly this weekend, and she has been known to look the other way if one of the senior girls had a ‘visitor’ after hours.”

“Not now, Marcy,” he snapped and wrenched his arm away from her, then took off down the hall following Sarah, while Marcy stared at him in disbelief.

“Did…did he just turn you down?” asked one of her sycophant friends, fixing her with a vapid expression.

Marcy shrugged, running her fingers thoughtfully over the strand of pearls around her neck. “No…he clearly has to go see the rugby coach or something important like that,” she said, tossing her long blonde hair over her shoulder and glaring daggers at Angus’ rapidly retreating back. _Sarah Williams will pay_ – she thought angrily. _What’s so damn special about her anyway?_

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

With each step that Sarah took, it became harder to fight back the tears that stung her eyes until she could barely see where she was going. If it weren’t for Angel’s hand on her sleeve, she might very well have walked into a tree or fallen down the stairs leading out of the Fine Arts Building. The laughter from the boys and Marcy’s crew were to be expected, but the fact that Angus had been involved at all, made her chest ache in an unfamiliar way.

“I thought he liked me,” she sniffed, as the first few tears began to slide down her cheeks. She blinked hard, willing the tears to stop until she was safely in Angel’s room.

“I know, hon,” Angel muttered, her words tinged with anger still. “He’s an ass. I’m so damn sorry to even suggest you should go out with him. He’s sooooo not worth it,” she added vehemently.

Nodding numbly, Sarah let Angel lead her on, her own thoughts so lost in misery and embarrassment that she didn’t register her name being called across the quad, until Angel hissed, “Just ignore him. I’ll deal with him.”

“Sarah! Wait!” called Angus, panting as he ran across the quad toward the dormitories, following the girls.

Angel stopped at the door to the girl’s dorm, rounding angrily on Angus as he caught up with them. “Piss off, Angus. You’ve done enough damage for one day,” she growled, balling her hands into fists as she took a step toward him.

Angus stepped back a bit, unsure whether Angel was going to take a swing at him or not. She wasn’t exactly known for being violent, but considering her current posture and anger, it paid to be circumspect.

“Look…I’m sorry. It was an accident,” he said, looking from Angel’s furious glare, to Sarah’s profile as she turned partially away from him. He could see the faint tracks of tears down her cheeks and cringed. “Seriously. It is Phil’s fault. He was horsing around. I told him not to, but…you know guys, Sarah. We’re stupid that way.”

She sniffed at his words, turning back toward the door, but not looking at him directly, her gaze still on the tiles of the dorm foyer. When she finally lifted her head and looked at him, a strange lump settled in his throat at the sad accusation in her jade eyes.

“I’m sorry, Sarah. For the whole thing. The soda was bad enough, but their comments…were just out-of-line. If I could take it back, I would. Please,” he said, taking a step toward Sarah, even as Angel moved closer growling at him, like a purple-streaked mother bear.

“Back the fuck _off_ , Angus,” Angel hissed in warning.

Taking a step back again, Angus sighed, looking at Sarah once more. “Please, Sarah…let me make it up to you,” he pleaded, finding himself willing to do just about anything to make the accusatory look in her eyes go away.

“Like Hell she will…” snapped Angel, only to be cut off by Sarah’s quiet words.

“How?” Sarah asked, her voice so low Angus almost didn’t hear her.

“What?!” asked Angus, as Angel squeaked the same in outraged wonder.

“How…will you make it up to me?” Sarah asked again, raising her head and pinning Angus in place with a hurt glare.

Angus found himself at a loss. He hadn’t expected her to actually listen to him, he only knew he needed to try. The fact that she was willing to give him a chance was more than he had hoped for.

“Um…you mean aside from knocking Phil and the other guys around for what they said?” he asked, earning himself a weak smile and nod from Sarah. It wasn’t the reaction he wanted, but it was a start. “Let me take you to dinner Friday night.”

When she looked like she was going to say no, he added, “Dinner…and a movie. No strings attached. And um… send Angel down with your clothes and I’ll pay to have them dry cleaned?” he offered as well.

Sarah sniffed and smiled quietly. “Dinner and a movie sound good, but I’ll have to check with Mrs. Rex first.”

Angus found himself grinning back at her, the warmth he felt at war with the awkwardness of asking her out in the first place. “And the dry cleaning?” he asked.

At that Sarah shook her head, tucking a wet lock of hair behind her ear with a shy smile. “I suspect there would be all kinds of weird questions to answer if Mr. Rex’s housekeeper found me one uniform short on washing day. And I think I’d like end up grounded for forever if I told them I gave it to a boy from school,” she said, giggling slightly at the thought of Jareths’ face if she told him that. _Forever isn’t that long at all_ – her inner-self chirped.

Angus’s smile broadened as he nodded. “Fine…dinner and a movie, Friday night. I’ll even come to the house to pick you up properly.”

Blushing, Sarah nodded, wondering at the odd fluttering sensation in her stomach. “I’ll…I’ll let you know tomorrow what Mrs. Rex says. Don’t make any plans until then.”

Grinning still, he gave another nod and started to back down the steps to the girl’s dorm. “And…for what it’s worth Sarah, I really am sorry.”

Sarah gave him a slight wave then turned and pushed open the door to the dorm, still squishing in her shoes as she stepped inside. Looking at the puddle of red liquid on the tiles, Angus couldn’t help feeling that this wasn’t right somehow, but it had to be done. He had to make amends.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

“Absolutely not!” Jareth yelled, his angular face contorted in frustration and anger as he paced his study in the Goblin Castle.

“Do be reasonable, Jareth dear,” replied his mother, with a shake of her head, her pale lavender eyes narrowing as she looked at him through the mirror in her bedroom at the manor. “You have feelings for the girl, do you not?”

Jareth ran a hand through his hair in irritation, making it stand more wildly about his face than usual. “Blast it all, Mother! You know damn well that I do…which is why I categorically refuse what you are proposing!” he roared, only to freeze at the sound of a deep rumble from his doorway. “Um..sorry Father,” he said, his expression shifting from anger to that of a scolded child.

“Don’t apologize to me, my boy. I’d say you should apologize to your mother for the disrespectful way you are speaking to her,” muttered the High King darkly, then turned to his beloved wife’s image in the mirror upon the wall, and gave her an adoring smile. “Hello darling. Is everything well with the grandchildren?”

“They aren’t your grandchildren,” grumbled Jareth peevishly, as he resumed pacing his study.

Ignoring her son’s petulant mumbling, Titania smiled warmly at her husband and nodded, “Yes, my love. The children are doing just fine. Although Toby is missing his _father_ ,” she added with a sly smile, her words making Jareth stop pacing, a stricken expression sliding across his face.

“Father?” he asked hopefully, glancing at the image of the elegant queen in the mirror. “He… he called me that?”

“To be precise he called you Papa and wanted to know when you’d be home to play with him. He misses you,” she said, then winked at Auberon. “He asked about you as well… _PopPop_. And wanted to know when you’d take him to see the dragons?” she added, relishing the sheepish smile on her husband’s face, knowing full well that he adored the little boy.

Auberon settled into a chair in Jareth’s study and beamed at Titania. “Well, what little boy doesn’t want to see dragons?” he chuckled, his silver-grey eyes twinkling merrily. “And how is our lovely Sarah feeling?”

“I think you mean _my_ Sarah,” Jareth muttered with a grumpy frown, as he slumped into his desk chair, flinging one leg over the arm and slouching into the leather seat.

“She is quite well, darling. Back at school this week and engaging with her friends, which is why our son is in such a snit,” she said with a disapproving frown in Jareth’s direction.

“I am _not_ in a _snit_ , Mother,” protested Jareth, his blue eyes snapping in frustration. “I have given my thoughts on the matter and as her guardian, my word stands.”

The High King pursed his lips and gave his son a searching look, before glancing once more at his queen. “We’ll see about that, my boy,” he intoned, then nodded at Titania. “Okay, what’s going on?”

Sighing, Titania shook her head, “Really, Auberon, there is no need for you to become involved in this.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” rumbled Auberon, tapping his pipe on the side of the chair before lighting it and sucking upon the stem with a stubborn set to his jaw, that matched the tightness currently visible in Jareth’s own face.

 _Like Father like son –_ Titania thought to herself with amusement.

“What? Are you afraid he’d side with me? He _is_ the father to four daughters, Madame,” sniped Jareth, his lips curling in a victorious smirk. “If anyone should understand my objection on the matter, it will be Father.”

Titania glared at her son, the power of the High Queen shimmering around her as a softly sparkling aura. “Don’t be so sure of that, Jareth,” she purred, the soft voice belied by the steel flickering in her eyes. “It’s quite simple really, Auberon.  Sarah has been asked out on a date Friday night and I have told her she can go.”

“And I have forbidden her to date if I am not in residence,” Jareth snapped back, emphasizing his objection with a sharp rap of his crop against the side of his chair. “How am I to maintain _any_ discipline over the girl if you constantly go behind my back and disregard the rules I have given her, Madame?!”

Seeing both Titania and his son open their mouths to continue arguing, Auberon shook his head. “Enough!” he barked, waving his hand at Jareth who snarled when his crop vanished from his hand. When they had both snapped their mouths shut once more, Auberon gave a slight nod. “Now then, tell me love, what does Jareth having feelings for the girl have to do with your reasoning for agreeing to the date?” he demanded.

Titania sniffed and rolled her eyes as she answered, her very tone and posture suggesting that the answer was glaringly obvious, if either of the males had bothered to think about it. “It’s quite simple really. Jareth, by his own admission has feelings for her. The bond is failing, and will continue to do so, as it must for the health of both Sarah and Jareth. What better way to assist the bond in failing, than allow the girl to experience the thrill of a new relationship.”

“Thrill?! New relationship?!” howled Jareth, on his feet once more as he angrily paced the floor of his study. “I will not have Sarah finding ‘thrills’ with anyone!”

 _But us! –_ snapped his libido, while his inner-self nodded frantically in agreement.

“Settle down, Jareth,” ordered Auberon, his deep voice rumbling against the stone walls of the Goblin King’s study.

“But Father!” Jareth protested, only to be silenced by a shake of Auberon’s head and his raised hand.

“You want the girl back in your bond at some stage, don’t you boy?” he asked, his pale eyes narrowing knowingly at Jareth, who sighed, then nodded. “Right then… we can’t save the bond that is failing, but _you_ can try to renew the bond once it _has_ failed. However in order to do that, it _must_ first fail. Your mother is right. The bloom of new love does carry a magic all its own and may be just the thing to help the bond fully fail. We will let the girl date and see what happens.”

Jareth felt fury surge through his veins. “I forbid it!” he roared, sending goblins scurrying for their hiding holes all over the castle, as his anger made the very stones shake.

With a wave of his hand, Auberon stilled the quaking of the stones and fixed his son with a hard look. “I am the patriarch of this family and the High King. While I have no real desire to interfere in your decisions regarding your children…”

“Wards…” growled Jareth, his hands balled into fists at his sides.

“ _Children_ …” insisted the High King. “As I was saying, I have no desire to interfere, yet in this instance, I think it wise to do as your _Queen_ commands. Let. The girl. Date!”

While his anger still raced through his body, making him long to lash out violently at his parents and any goblins stupid enough to come near him, Jareth felt an icy sensation settle around his heart, squeezing it until he thought it would stop beating entirely. “But…what if she should actually _love_ another,” he finally muttered, his shoulders slumping in defeat as he admitted his greatest fear to his parents.

Titania felt her son’s uncertainty and worry through the familial link, as his anguished eyes pleaded with her through the mirrored surface.

“If this is truly meant to be, then nothing will stop it, Jareth,” she said quietly, watching her eldest crumple into his desk chair and bury his head in his hands. “You must trust the girl, darling. She has growing yet to do, and if you truly care for her, you will step aside and let that growth happen, so that she will become the queen you need her to be.”

Feeling Jareth’s despair through the link, Titania longed to wrap her arms around him, but knew that a tender caress was not what would be best for either Jareth or Sarah. Sometimes, even the powerful Goblin King needed a bit of tough love and swift kick in the pants.

And as much as it broke her heart to give it to him, it was her duty as his mother and Queen.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

“Is this really necessary?” asked Sarah, her jade eyes narrowing critically at her appearance in the mirror. It seemed so odd to see herself in something other than her school uniform while having Angel around. She tugged at the deep neckline of her deep burgundy shirt, the color making her eyes seem more green than usual. If she was honest with herself, the outfit was flattering, but given the niggly ache in her lower back, she knew her period was due anytime, and she would really rather be curled up in her flannel pajamas with a good book tonight, than be going out on a date. And if she couldn’t’ do that, she’d at least like to be dressed comfortably. “Couldn’t I just wear a t-shirt, jeans and my leather jacket?” she added, frowning as she looked down at the sleek brown leather skirt, Angel had forced her into, complimented by the faded cream color of her tights.

Angel carefully pulled a chestnut lock of Sarah’s hair from the tongs of the curling iron in her hand. Dropping the curling iron on the counter with a clatter, Angel gave the curl a spritz with hair spray, while Sarah scrunched up her face and held her breath. “You look fabulous. And don’t squint your eyes or you’ll smudge your mascara,” she ordered, before giving Sarah’s whole head a spritz.

Huffing, Sarah closed her eyes more gently and submitted to Angel’s fussing, while her stomach fluttered nervously. “This is the first date I’ve been on in a year,” she sighed, twisting her fingers in her lap. “The last time Daddy…” she said, her voice cracking a bit. Taking a deep breath she continued, “Daddy insisted that all dates had to be met by him.”

Angel put down the spray and gave Sarah’s hand a gentle squeeze. “It’s okay, duckie.  I’m sure your dad would think you are beautiful and he’d approve of Angus. I mean, he’s actually a nice guy, even if most of his friends are complete asshats. And don’t forget, you _did_ get permission to go out, so it isn’t like you’ll get in trouble for it this time.”

Sarah couldn’t argue with that, it was true. She still couldn’t believe that Jareth had agreed to let her go on this date anyway – if that was what it actually was. Of course, she hadn’t spoken to Jareth since she had mentioned the invitation to Titania over dinner on Wednesday, so for all she knew, Jareth hadn’t agreed and this was all Titania’s doing.

 _Doesn’t matter who said yes…the fact is, you are going out tonight, with the most sought after senior boy at school –_ chirped her inner-self, parroting the argument Angel had given Thursday morning when Sarah had tried to talk her way out of the date.

“It will drive Marcy nuts!” her friend had said, wicked glee flashing in her eyes at the prospect. Sarah on the other hand, was not so sure that irritating Marcy was a good thing. In her view, that was rather like poking a starving lion while dressed as a tender, mouth-watering gazelle – an invitation to end up a bloody mess.

Finally Angel finished fussing over Sarah’s appearance and whether Sarah wanted to admit it or not, she did look quite nice. Leaning over she picked up the small crystal necklace Jareth had given her and slipped it around her neck, finding that the nervousness and unease seemed to fade away as soon as the small crystal lay against her skin. Absently Sarah reached up, lightly stroking the black marking hidden under the silk chemise beneath her shirt, then sensation soothing. Sarah gave Angel a smile and nodded, “Okay, let’s do this thing.”

Squealing, Angel gave Sarah a hug. “That’s my girl! Now look, I’ll be at the 9pm showing of the movie too, so if you run into any problems, you’ll find me in the balcony. Otherwise, I’ll see you tomorrow night, right?”

Sarah nodded, hugging her friend back. “Yup. Slumber party tomorrow night. Louis will pick you up on campus at 1.”

“And I expect _alllllll_ of the dirty details,” Angel grinned, before making ‘kissy faces’ at Sarah and moaning, “Ohh…ohh…Angus….”

Laughing, Sarah shoved Angel away. “You’re ridiculous. Did’ya know that?”

“Yeah, and think how boring life would be if you’d ended up as one of Marcy’s idiotic followers. You’re just lucky that I got to you first,” she giggled, grabbing her backpack and hooking her arm into Sarah’s. “Come on, let’s head downstairs. Angus should be here soon to pick you up, and I need Louis to run me back to campus to change before he takes me to town.”

Fifteen minutes later, Sarah was in the formal lounge pacing the floor as she waited for Angus to arrive.  Since Jareth wasn’t in residence to meet him, Titania was going to do so. Nibbling her lip, Sarah sighed and shook her head, her thoughts tumbling around and round in her head, yet getting no where. She was confused. On the one hand the fact that Angus liked her and wanted to date her made her feel fuzzy and warm inside, but at the same time, something didn’t feel right.

 _Well duh! You’re cheating on Jareth –_ muttered her libido, who had been pouting in a corner ever since she’d accepted the date.

“I can’t be cheating on Jareth. We aren’t a ‘couple’… not really,” she muttered with a frown. Her cheeks flushed hotly when she realized she had been talking to herself again. Groaning she turned and leaned her forehead against the cool marble of the mantel over the ornate fireplace.

“Nervous, dear?” Titania asked, gliding silently into the room.

Jumping, Sarah squeaked, then smiled sheepishly and nodded, as the immaculately dressed queen slid gracefully into a chair. Having only seen Titania and Auberon dressed in Aboveground fashions, she momentarily found herself distracted by wondering if their Underground clothing was as flashy and over the top as Jareth’s.

“Um…yeah…a bit,” she finally mumbled, sitting on the sofa near Titania and trying to keep from fidgeting with her hands.

Titania reached over and tender patted Sarah’s hand as it fisted in her lap. She gave the girl a motherly nod and squeezed her hand. “It’s okay to be nervous. A first date is always a strange and often thrilling thing. I remember the first time I met Auberon as if it were yesterday,” she said with a warm smile.

“Really? Was your first date good?” Sarah asked, feeling herself relax a bit with Titania’s soothing presence.

“Actually, no. The first date, if you can call it that, was an unmitigated disaster, and nearly ended in a declaration of war,” the queen laughed, the sound a gentle chiming that filled the room. “But at the same time, it was thrilling on many levels.” Seeing the confused but clearly interested look on Sarah’s face, Titania settled back in her chair and chuckled at the ridiculous turn of events that had occurred over a century in the past. “Well, I first met Auberon during the Yule Festival events, the year I was presented to the court for courting suits, just as you will be this Yule,” she began.

Sarah found herself smiling at the warmth in Titania’s expression as she recounted what must be a happy memory. Titania’s gaze shifted, taking on a far away quality, while she gently ran a manicured finger over the pastel pearls around her slender throat.

“It was the day before the Yule Ball. While the presentations happen the day of the ball, the night before, engagements from those courting suits accepted at the previous year’s ball, are announced. I had been sequestered all day with the other young women being presented. We had been having quite a bit of fun, but I still found it a bit boring,” she said, then gave Sarah a sly smile. “Believe it or not, I was quite a little hellion at that age, much to my beloved father’s dismay and my mothers horror. So, to spend the day with other young women as we were drilled relentlessly over how to act during our presentation at the ball, it was more than a bit dull and very frustrating. When we were finally released for the evening, my friends Jaliza, Circe and myself were making our way back to our family quarters at the Crystal Palace. Just as you and Angel do, we were chattering and carrying on, without really paying attention to where we were going. It wasn’t until we turned down a hall and smelled cigars, Elven ice wine and heard raucous laughter that we realized we had stumbled upon the bachelor’s quarters.”

At Sarah’s confused look, Titania’s grin grew. “You see, for the protection of the young ladies of the court, all bachelors, that is to say, all men of royal houses who were of marrying age, but had not yet assumed a throne of their own or had not declared a courting suit, are housed together in the bachelor’s quarters when they visit the Court. So, just imagine an entire wing of the castle devoted to bachelors and their valets. The wing is bespelled to both dampen the noise, but also to keep women out of the halls.  Therefore, we should not have been able to stumble our way into the bachelor quarters, but somehow we did.  Circe, Jaliza and myself were as bad as each other in those days,” Titania chuckled, her eyes misting with the memory once more. “Our parents actually dreaded the times when we were together, as we usually ended up in some kind of mischief. So, naturally when we realized where we were, it was only a matter of time before once of us came up with some bit of rebellion to engage in. After all, we had been admiring the eligible bachelors all through dinner that night, and taking bets on which ones were…well…not interested in the company of females.”

Sarah’s green eyes widened at that, and she felt a heated blush bloom in her cheeks. “You’re kidding, right?” she giggled.

The Queen shook her head and laughed, “No…I’m quite serious. Forming bonds with a partner of the same sex is not a taboo Underground as it is here, however all bachelors who are not yet enthroned or have not given suit, are required to live in the bachelor’s quarters while visiting the court. Those that are inclined toward male companionship find the situation ideal, for obvious reasons. And no one has any problems with it, although it makes it difficult for the young women of the court to make guesses about who might put in a suit for courting rights.” Waving her hand and smiling as she lost herself in the memory, Titania continued, “So, Circe suggested that an easy way to figure out who were the courting bachelors from those who were disinterested, would be to dangle a naked woman under their noses and see who demonstrated ‘obvious’ interest.”

Gawping at the Queen, Sarah shook her head, “You can’t possibly mean….”

“Oh but I do, darling,” laughed Titania. “You’ve seen how tight Jareth’s trousers are, I’m sure. They don’t hide much, particularly if a male is ‘interested’. Underground fashion changes quite slowly and tight trousers upon the young bucks is an enduring tradition,” she shrugged then smiled again. “As I’m sure Jareth has told you, our attitudes toward physical pleasure are vastly different from humans. Women tend to wear low necklines to display their ‘attributes’ and the young males do the same with their tight trousers – think of it as an advertisement of their prowess.”

Sarah’s blush deepened as that thought played through her mind, much to the delight of her libido who began crunching numbers trying for a value-based estimate of Jareth’s potential ‘prowess’. Squeaking and shaking her head, Sarah muttered, “Oh…I sooooooo did not need that information just now.”

Laughing at the discomfort of the girl, Titania continued, “Anyway, Circe, Jaliza and myself agreed that the idea had merit, but we needed to find a willing female to use as bait. This is when Jaliza dared me to streak naked through the common lounge of the bachelor’s area, which was where most of the men seemed to be congregating.” When Sarah gasped, Titania merely chuckled. “The castle layout is repetitive in some ways, with a central lounge on each floor. In each wing, the lounges are all placed in the same location, which makes servicing them and bespelling them easier for the vizier, as the lounges are spelled to minimize disturbances to the sleeping quarters. So, we knew that the lounge would have the same general layout as the lounge in our family wings of the castle – a set of double doors leading into the lounge, a smaller sub-parlor door on one side of the long room, and another door on the other side, usually leading to a small library of sorts. Along the wall opposite the entry doors, would be another set of double doors leading to the garden or a balcony. The only thing we didn’t know was what floor we were on, as the location of the bachelor’s quarters was kept quite secret – for obvious reasons.”

Entranced by the story, Sarah leaned toward Titania, the girl’s fingers curling lightly around the small crystal laying at the base of her throat. Smiling, the Queen felt the nervousness the girl had been feeling, ease, so she continued her tale. “Being of the line of Phareon, I was the only one of my friends who had the gift of shape-shiftng, with my natural creature being a falcon. I am why one of Jareth’s alternate forms is the barn owl,” she added, noting the interest that flickered in Sarah’s eyes.

“Um… _one_ of his alternate forms? How many does he have? ” she asked, then blushed, her gaze dropping to her lap once more. “Sorry for interrupting.”

The gentle queen shook her head and smiled. “Nonsense, Sarah dear. You are perfectly right to be curious about such things.” Titania pursed her pink coated lips in thought before answering, “Jareth has three forms to my knowledge, but there may be more that he has not divulged, as is his right. He can transform into his barn owl form, which is a genetic ability from my line. He can also shift into a lupine form,” she replied, then chuckled. “That ability comes from his father of course. You should see the two of them together some time. They are quite handsome in that form. In addition to those two, he has the shape given to him as the Goblin King, which is a great red dragon. Very impressive, although he rarely trots that shape out, as it is quite exhausting for him.”

Sarah’s eyes widened at the thought of Jareth in his dragon form. Sensing the girl’s unease at the knowledge of Jareth’s shape-shifting abilities, Titania continued her tale, drawing the girl’s attention back into the story with the practiced ease of one who was used to such things.

“So, Jaliza dared me to run naked through the bachelor’s lounge, knowing that no matter what floor we happened to be on, I would be able to dash out the balcony doors and to safety before anyone was the wiser. We could hear the bachelor’s celebrating the engagement announcements made earlier in the evening. There were many toasts being made and from what we could gather in eavesdropping, several of the newly engaged males were attending the party,” Titania said, then shook her head and laughed. “I was never one to shy away from a dare, even one as foolish as this one. We all knew that should I be caught by one of the males, I was risking my reputation, not to mention my father’s displeasure. If one of the bachelors caught me in their midst, they would be within their right to take that as an invitation to… ‘sample my charms’ as it were,” she admitted, a faint rosy blush spreading over her cheeks, while Sarah openly gasped. “Don’t look so shocked, Sarah dear. Remember, sex is not a taboo for us. For a single woman to go parading naked into the bachelor’s quarters, they are essentially inviting attention of that nature. I knew it, as did my friends. While my friends were no blushing virgins at that point, what they didn’t know is that _I_ still was, which was unusual for someone of my age. But in my mind, that alone was no reason for me to turn down such an adventure.”

“How old were you?” asked Sarah in disbelief.

Titiana closed her eyes, humming to herself as she ticked the years off on her fingers. “I was 240 years old at that time, roughly your age in Aboveground years,” she replied, opening her purple eyes and smiling. “It seems like yesterday, but it was in fact over a century ago.  Once I agreed to the plan, Circe and Jaliza helped me get out of my dress, then they secreted me near the entrance of the room in an curtained alcove and raced out of the bachelors wing to the gardens. The plan was that I would give them ten minutes to get to the gardens, then I would streak through the lounge, out the balcony doors and either fly away and meet the girls in the maiden’s garden, or return to my suite in my family’s quarters of the castle. I waited until the clock chimed 13 o’clock, then snuck out of my hiding place. The party in the lounge was as raucous has ever, as they toasted the engaged fellows. When one of the bachelor’s was in the middle of giving his toast, I threw open the double doors, gave a whooping yell and raced through the room.”

Sarah squeaked in spite of herself, able to see the whole scene in her mind’s eye. Seeing the enthralled look on Sarah’s face, Titania smiled and continued. “Unfortunately, in coming up with this ridiculous plan, my friends and I didn’t account for the fact that the bachelors wouldn’t be sitting decorously in the chairs and on the sofas like we girls did in our lounge. For some reason we thought I’d be able to run straight through the room and out the balcony doors, yet that was not the case. When I threw open the doors and burst into the room, imagine my dismay to find that the bachelors were _everywhere_. Instead of my straight run, I had to dodge around them. Just as well I timed my entrance when I did. They were in the middle of a toast with their glasses raised, so it took them a few moments to realize just what was happening.”

“Oh my Gods,” gasped Sarah, her delicate fingers rising to cover her mouth as she stared in horror at the High Queen. “What did you do?”

Laughing Titania shrugged. “I ran, of course. I weaved and dodged as the bachelors started to come to themselves again, and began to reach out to grab me. Luckily for me, the balcony doors were wide open. So, in a burst of speed, I launched myself toward them as fast as my feet could carry me, glancing over my shoulder to see if any of them were close to catching up. Seeing none of them within grabbing distance, I gave a triumphant yell, then ran straight into what felt like a brick wall.”

The look of shock on Sarah’s face was priceless. Titania beamed happily as she let herself slide into the memory playing out in her mind. “With my head spinning from the impact, I barely registered the steely arms that had wrapped around me. It wasn’t until I heard the deep rumble of laughter in my ear that I realized, to my delight and horror, _who_ I had run into – the Crown Prince himself! In that instant I wasn’t sure who would kill me first -- my father for the prank, or the King for having committed what amounted to a bodily assault on royal family.”

“Oh shit! What did you do?” Sarah gasped, only to be surprised when peals of laughter rolled from Titania’s pale lips.

“Oh darling, it only got worse at that point. Auberon, being his cheeky self, purred in my ear, ‘Hello sweet Titania…if you wanted a place in my bed, you only had to ask, rather than attempt to tackle me.’”

Sarah giggled and Titania joined her, the memory vivid in her mind. “I was torn between being thrilled that the Crown Prince even knew who I was, and terrified that he actually meant what he said and I might end up in his bed. So, I did what any girl in that situation would do, I screamed bloody murder and struggled to get away.”

Riveted, Sarah shook her head in disbelief. “Why didn’t you transform and escape?”

Titania chuckled softly, her face flushed with laughter. “If only it were that easy. I was still new to my transformation, and the only way I had been able to do it was to physically throw myself from a balcony. The fight or flight instinct always took over and I’d transform instantly. My plan was to do just that, but Auberon caught me just at the railing of the balcony, where he had been apparently having a quiet smoke before I barreled into him. In my struggle to get away, I managed to get to the railing and over it – however Auberon didn’t know that I could transform into a bird. Fearing that I was going to fall and injure myself, he reached out to save me and over-balanced.”

“Oh no!” squeaked Sarah, clapping her hand over her mouth.

“Oh yes,” laughed the High Queen. “Auberon toppled over the railing with me, latching onto my hand in the process. With his hand on mine, I couldn’t transform. So there we were, the Crown Prince and a naked maiden, toppling from the balcony of the bachelors lounge, to what should have been certain death. In my fear, I shut my eyes tight and made the first true wish I had ever made in my life. A wish I meant with every fiber of my being.”

Sarah’s eyes goggled as she looked at Titania in awe. “Y—you made a wish? Was it granted?!”

“Yes, I made a wish. I wished that my death would be quick. At that moment, I would rather have died than have to face my father or the High King,” the Queen said, then patted Sarah’s hand at the look of horror on the girl’s face. “While Auberon didn’t know I could fly, I didn’t know something of him as well. That night was his last night in the bachelor’s quarters, as not an hour before the party began, Auberon had returned from the Labyrinth as the new Goblin King. We girls had been sequestered all day, and didn’t know that he had spent the previous day and a half as the Labyrinth’s king challenger. So, there I was falling and wishing for a quick death, while the Keeper of Wishes and Dreams was holding onto my hand, falling with me. I felt a gentle hand wrap around the back of my head, pulling my face to his chest, and his words echoing in my ear.”

“What words?” whispered Sarah, thoroughly enchanted by the story.

“Not granted,” replied Titania with a grin. “By the time I registered what he had said, we had landed in a bed of soft moss and flower petals. Above us I heard shouts and commotion, and I could see bachelors peering over the balcony, and shouts to summon healers and the Crown Prince’s own guard. Despite all the chaos, they didn’t seem to be able to see Auberon or myself. Looking up again, all I saw was Auberon’s face above mine, as he stroked my cheek and whispered to me – ‘Why wish for death, sweet one?’ he asked. I felt all my fears crash into me at once, and began to sob and babble about how my father would kill me when he found out about the prank and that if father didn’t kill me, I’d be tried for attempting to assassinate the Crown Prince – in front of a room full of witnesses no less! All the while I babbled, he stroked my cheek, then when my tears seemed at their pinnacle, I made another wish. ‘I wish I hadn’t done this,’ I moaned, and shut my eyes tightly. I didn’t see him as he bent lower, then…he kissed me. The kiss was so gentle, yet so passionate, it surprised me to the very core of my being. When he broke the kiss, he pressed his lips against my ear and whispered, ‘I’m glad you did, however…if it brings you this much pain and trouble, perhaps it would be best if it did not happen.’ The next thing I knew, I was tucked into my own bed, in a nightgown that I had never seen before, with a shimmering blue crystal sitting on the pillow next to me, along with a note that read -- ‘Wish granted. But who shall grant the wishes of the Keeper of Wishes?’”

Sarah’s eyes misted over with tears, “That’s…so…horrible and beautiful and sad, all at the same time,” she sniffled.

Smiling, Titania handed the girl a silk handkerchief and nodded as she dabbed at her eyes. “It was, wasn’t it? He had granted my wishes, but as it turned out, he had wishes of his own and I was able to grant one the next night, when he stood up in open court during my presentation, and stated his intention to claim courting rights for my hand. When asked if I would accept the suit, I felt as if my heart would burst with joy – and I happily accepted his suit. Of course, this is where the near declaration of war came into things, as I had reluctantly accepted a courting suit from the King of Nightmares just before Auberon spoke up. While it is acceptable for a girl to accept suits from more than one bachelor, they must be suits of the same class. The King of Nightmares only wanted a simple courting suit, while Auberon presented a suit for my hand and bonding, which gave his suit precedence over the first.”

Sighing, Sarah smiled, even as more tears slipped down her cheeks. “Even still, it was…Oh my…that is….so lovely.”

“Now now, darling…no need to take on so,” chided Titania, waving a hand and touching up the smears of mascara under Sarah’s eyes. “You’ll ruin your make up before your date gets here and you look so lovely.”

Still sniffling, Sarah nodded and tried to stop her tears. “I know, but…it’s so romantic.”

“Yes, it was and still is, Sarah dear. Besides, you know how it turned out. Four children, lots of grand children, with more on the way. And many more episodes of ridiculousness that keep us laughing until the wee hours of the morning if we let them,” Titania chuckled, then gave Sarah’s hand a gentle squeeze.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Angus had arrived at the manor right on time, and was summarily introduced to Titania. Sarah could see that he was trying to charm the High Queen, but was a little over-awed about the fact that he was standing in Rex Manor and talking to Gareth Rex’s mother. She supposed that Angus held his own reasonably well, although she could see Titania’s eyes sparkling with amusement at times, while Angus tried to impress her with mention of his athletic achievements.

“That is lovely, dear,” Titania had said, listening politely while Angus discussed his position on the football team. “Sarah tells me you are in orchestra with her, are you on any academic teams or in any knowledge-based organizations?”

Angus had given the elder woman a blank look then sheepishly shook his head, “No Ma’am.”

At that Titania had shaken her head, giving him a quiet, but still polite smile, “Pity. The Rex family has always valued physical prowess, but what is physical ability without keen knowledge and insight to make full use of it?”

It was clear from the vaguely confused look in Angus’ eyes that he didn’t quite understand what Titania meant – nor did he realize that what she said was essentially an insult. Although her words were not really meant to cut the boy down, they were not without purpose. Glancing at Sarah, Titania saw the girl’s own lips twitch as she fought down a smile. The amused and somewhat dull look on Sarah’s face reassured the High Queen that while her son was afraid that the girl would develop serious feelings for the boy. Clearly, her words had hit their intended mark, reminding Sarah not just what Angus lacked, but hopefully what Jareth had to offer.

“Well then, you two have fun. And do be sure to have Sarah back by midnight. Mr. Rex was reluctant to let Sarah date so soon after her illness, so it would not due to anger him by keeping her out too late,” Titania said, rising to her feet.

Sarah hopped up as well, knowing enough to understand that they were being dismissed. Even as she took Angus’s elbow and steered him toward the door with a hasty, “Thank you, Ma’am. I’ll be back on time. I promise,” Sarah was mulling over the fact that Jareth had not wanted her going out tonight.

So it was Titania who managed to work things out – she thought, smiling to herself. I wonder whose side she is really on.

Titania watched with amusement as Sarah took control, guiding the young man from the lounge and out the front door of the manner. As soon as the door thudded shut, she turned her gaze toward the mirror over the mantel, smiling as Auberon flickered into view. “He is no match for our girl,” she chuckled, while Auberon shook his head in agreement.

“She is strong, wife. Surely she would balk at being controlled by her husband and King?” he asked, puffing upon his pipe, his light grey eyes narrowing in concern.

Shaking her head, Titania moved toward the mirror, a knowing smile teasing her lips. “No, my love. That she is strong, is what will make her the ideal queen to rule over the goblins. Yet it is exactly that strength that makes her Jareth’s match, her strength matches his and his authority will temper her, offering her the respite from needing to constantly be in charge. In time she will learn the power and joy to be found in giving up one’s control to another – and she will thrive when that happens. Speaking of which, have you time to spend with your wife, Auberon, my love?” she asked, her fingers lightly stroking the black lines hidden beneath the silk of her blouse, as her lavender eyes darkened.

“Always for you, darling,” Auberon said, his image flickering and fading from the mirror, with Titania shimmered out of sight immediately after him.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

As far as dates went, this wasn’t the worst that Sarah had been on…but it was very close. She wasn’t really sure what she was expecting, but somehow, this wasn’t it.

Upon leaving the manor, Angus had taken her in town to the pizzeria for dinner. Given that the village was small, there weren’t that many places that youth under 18 could dine out without having an adult with them. The pub was right out, which meant so was the restaurant attached to it. The only choices were LaRosa’s pizzeria, The Slippery Sloop fish and chip shop or Tagget’s Milk Bar, which aside from the pub was the only place in town to get a cheeseburger and chips. Considering that the Slippery Sloop and Tagget’s neither had indoor seating, LaRosa’s was the only real choice for a date, unless one wanted to drive to one of the neighboring villages.

Sarah had nothing against LaRosa’s. As far as pizzarias went, it was better than most because they actually offered more than just pizza. The downside really as that on a Friday night, the place was filled with other kids from the academy – either on individual dates or group dates. By the time they arrived at 7, there weren’t any tables for two left, so Angus and Sarah took a table for four near the back. It might not have been so bad if they had gotten to keep their private table – but that was not to be. Before they had even placed their order, Angus’ friends had barged into the restaurant, their boisterous laughing carrying over the conversations of the others already inside the restaurant. Sarah groaned and shrank down in her seat as the group of four boys stood by the door, scanning for seats.

 _Please let them leave…please let them leave_ – she prayed, then cringed as they finally spotted Angus. Shouting and waving at him, they pushed their way toward the back of the small restaurant and took over the vacant chairs, even going so far as to swipe chairs from other tables.

“Hey man…whatcha doing here with Williams?” demanded Steve, reaching over and swiping a breadstick from the basket between Angus and Sarah.

“I’m…we’re on a date, guys…” Angus said, taking Sarah’s hand, which only made the others laugh.

“Yeah right! You turned Marcy down to go on a date with the charity case?” Brent laughed, clapping Angus on the shoulder, then leering at Sarah’s chest until she pulled her jacket further around herself. “Or hoping for another wet t-shirt show?”

“You’re a pig, Brent,” Sarah snapped, her green eyes flashing at him. “Why don’t you take your piggy friends and go find a trough somewhere else.”

Instead of being offended by Sarah’s insult, the boys merely laughed louder. James physically grabbed the waitresses arm as she tried to get by them to deliver drinks to a neighboring table. “Hey gorgeous, bring us a pitcher of soda will ya?” he asked, groping her ass. She glared at him and jerked away, barely managing to keep the drinks on her tray.

“Guys…we’re on a date. Piss off, will ya?” Angus said, trying again to get the others to leave.

Steve rolled his eyes and laughed, “Come on mate…there’s no more tables. You had empty seats. Besides we’re friends.”

“Friends would know when they weren’t wanted,” snapped Angus, clenching his jaw.

The waitress returned before Angus could try again. She leaned over to glasses around the table, frowning as Brent openly stared at her breasts. Ignoring the others, she looked at Angus and Sarah, “Are you ready to order?”

Sarah opened her mouth to order some pasta, but was cut off by the boys talking over each other until Steve managed to shout over them, “Bring us the extra large supreme pizza with extra olives. That’ll do for all of us,” he declared, swatting the waitress on the ass. She smacked his hand away and practically fled from the table, not even bothering to see if Sarah wanted anything.

Her jaw ticked in anger as the others took over the conversation, with sports now dominating things. As she sat there, she felt the niggly back ache begin to bloom now, shifting into deep spasms that seemed to wrap around her hips. _Yay…let’s add cramps on top of everything. Like I needed something to make this date any worse –_ she thought miserably.

From there the conversation devolved to sports and stayed there. With each passing minute, Sarah felt her irritation growing. The desire to wish that the goblins would do terrible things to the boys was growing more and more tempting. Instead she clamped her mouth shut, her jaw tight as she fought not to go off on the intruders. Finally, when Jeff had snatched the last breadstick as she reached for it, Sarah got up, throwing her napkin on the table. Reaching over Angus tried to take her hand, only to have her jerk it away. “Bathroom,” she hissed, her voice low and hard, before she turned and stalked toward the bathrooms in the far hallway of the restaurant.

Once in the relative quiet of the bathroom, she leaned against the wall and sighed. Her fingers lightly stroked the crystal hanging at her throat while she debated whether she should just sneak out the back and go home.

 _I could call Louis from the call-box in front of the pub_ – she thought, biting her lip.

 _Angus didn’t look too happy about the intrusion either. Running out on him would be kind of rude –_ countered her inner-self, trying not to look smug. _I told you this date was a bad idea in the first place._

 _If you ask me, Angus didn’t try to get rid of them hard enough. He doesn’t deserve you being nice to him at this point. Go home…or catch the shuttle to campus and hang out with Angel until it is time to go home_ – muttered her libido, who was still tetchy about the fact that Sarah hadn’t managed to get any pleasure for nearly a week, which was far too long in her libido’s opinion.

Pursing her lips, Sarah peered in the mirror and touched up her lipstick, then slung her purse over her shoulder. “I have cramps. I feel like shit. And this is already the date from Hell. No one would hold it against me if I just bail on him,” she muttered to herself as she looked at the purple streaks starting to show up under her eyes from the pain in her back and across her stomach. As if to prove the point, the muscles in her back tightened deeply, until a wave of pain wrapped clear around her hips. “That tears it then…I’m going home.”

Having made up her mind to head to campus and get Louis to pick her up there. She pulled the door of the ladies room open and headed into the hall, only to run straight into Angus who was leaning against the wall. He gave her a contrite smile, his shoulders hunched as he looked at her.

“I…I thought for a minute you had snuck out and gone home,” he muttered with a sigh. “Look, Sarah…I’m sorry. This isn’t what I wanted. If I’d have known they’d do this, I would’ve driven us over to Midsummer Morrow or Badger’s Drift for dinner,” he said, pushing a lock of hair from where it had fallen over his eye. “We’ll have the pizza and then go to the movies. They shouldn’t bother us there. We can just find seats far away from them. Okay?”

Try as she might to retain her anger, the look of misery on Angus’ face won her over and she nodded, “Okay. Fine. I’ll try to put up with them a bit more. But if Steve makes another crack about my boobs or the whole wet t-shirt thing….”

“I’ll hold him down and you can deck him,” Angus said with a grin. “Deal?”

At that, Sarah’s lips curled into a wicked grin. “Deal.”

If only it had been that easy.

Thanks to the antics of the boys and the five of them fighting over who got to pay for the pizza and arguing over whether Sarah should be counted with Angus or separately, it took ages to pay for dinner, so by the time they arrived at the movie theatre, the previews had already begun. Angus purchased Sarah’s ticket and took her hand, muttering, “Let’s stop for snacks now and hopefully the guys will have found seats before we get into the theatre.

Sarah nodded mutely, just wanting to escape the group of obnoxious boys. Unfortunately, her luck seemed to be on holiday that night. By the time they purchased popcorn and drinks, the theatre was full, mostly with kids from the academy. Unless they wanted to sit in single seats on opposite sides of the theatre, the only available pair of seats was right in front of where the rest of the guys had managed to find seats. Seeing another couple come into the theatre, Angus squeezed Sarah’s hand and made a beeline for the pair of seats. Sarah groaned as she found herself with no means of escape -- stuck in the middle of a row, right in front of the horde of goblin-ish boys.

Resigned to spending the evening in the company of the group of apes masquerading as high school boys, Sarah gave up trying to follow the movie, instead finding her mind drifting toward Jareth. Her attention no longer on the plot of the so-called ‘action-romance’ movie on screen, Sarah wondered what Jareth’s dates were like. _Surely, with as handsome as he is, he goes on dates –_ she mused, then shifted in her seat at the wave of jealousy that flooded her. Lost in her own daydreams, she thought first of what Jareth might wear on a date, deciding that while he was handsome in suits, she suspected that he actually preferred something more casual. In her mind she saw him in faded grey jeans, well worn, but well-fitted. _Yes…those suit him –_ purred her libido, licking its lips hungrily at the image, then adding a white button down shirt to the mix. _Untucked of course, and showing just a tantalizing hint of his delicious looking chest –_ it added, giving a sensual shimmy at the thought. From that point on her daydream only escalated, until she saw herself straddling his lap, her hands splayed across his now bare chest, while he proceeded to kiss her into oblivion. Biting her lip, she let the images take over her mind, as the familiar burning began to churn through her body, the black lined mark on her sternum itching and throbbing with each new movement of the Goblin King in her daydream.

Without warning, the raucous laughter behind her increased tenfold and someone thudded hard on the back of her seat with his hand, jerking her roughly from her pleasant daydream.

A low growl of irritation rumbled in her throat as she once again found herself trapped in the theatre on the date-from-Hell. Checking her watch she sighed, it had only been 40 minutes, and there was another hour and a half to go before the movie ended. She had had enough of the boys kicking her seat, tossing popcorn into her hair, whispering loudly and generally acting like jackasses. While the movie might not be close to finishing, Sarah on the other hand was more than finished with things. Grabbing her purse she excused herself to the bathroom, ignoring the way people yelled and jeered at her for getting up, since her seat meant she blocked the view while she squeezed her way through the row to the aisle. Sarah ducked down the hall at the side of the theatre and walked right past the bathrooms, heading straight for the back exit from the building.

“This date is soooooo over,” she grumbled to herself as she gave the silver latch on the door a vicious push and slipped out into the cool autumn evening.  With a deep sigh she let the brisk air swirl around her, cooling her anger flushed cheeks. Sarah glanced toward the moonlit sky and felt the tension in her relax. She was free at last. Letting the remainder of her irritation go, she stuffed her hands in her jacket pockets and started walking down the alley toward the sidewalk, planning to find the nearest coffee shop and call Louis to come rescue her.

“Walking out on a date? Kinda rude doancha think?” demanded a quiet voice from behind her.

Whipping around, Sarah gasped, her jade eyes wide in surprise, then softening a bit as she saw Brian standing in the alley. She didn’t know him very well, but he was always the quietest one of Angus’ bunch of friends, which made her wonder why he hung out with them at all. He had barely said two words to her all evening, and never spoke to her in class, yet there was something about him at that moment that made her uneasy.

“Oh…yeah…I’ve got a headache and thought I’d just slip out and head home. I…I um told Angus I was going,” she lied, nibbling her lower lip nervously. In that moment she paused to wonder why she should feel so unnerved by Brian. But that moment was a moment too long.

She didn’t even see his hand as he flew out, grabbing her by the hair and jerking her back deeper into the gloom of the alley. When his fingers knotted in her hair, Sarah gave a strangled yelp that turned to a sob of pain at the feel of her head bouncing forcefully against the rough bricks of the wall. Stunned by the pain in her head and face, she didn’t notice that he was dragging her through a door at the back of the alley, until she heard the latch fall shut, locking her into a dark, storeroom. Roughly he threw her to the floor, glaring down at her with eyes that shined, like black pits. Sarah squeaked and scrabbled back away from him, hissing as she felt gravel and glass pierce her hands.

“I can _smell_ you…whore,” Brian snarled, then launched himself at her, pinning her to the ground, his hands grabbing hers and jerking them above her head, where he held them in his vice-grip. “Whores…get what they deserve,” he laughed maliciously, while his other hand pushed her skirt up, mauling her with rough fingers through her knickers.

The minute his fingers met her tender flesh, Sarah felt the mark on her chest flare to life, a burst of burning pain that seemed to fuel a matching burst of anger that coursed through her. Arching under him, she growled as she fought him, tugging so hard to free her hands that she nearly succeeded before he jerked her back into place. She howled as the movement dislocated her shoulder, her legs twisting and thrashing in her efforts to kick him off her.

The rational part of Sarah’s mind found itself cowering in a corner as something dark and strong seemed to take over.

 _Imposter!_ – it roared, forcing her to fight harder. Wrenching her hand from Brian’s, she somehow ignored the biting agony of her dislocated shoulder as she clawed viciously at his face, leaving deep gouges that poured blood. _Not mate! Imposter! Kill!_ – it howled.

And Sarah howled with it.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Endless torture….again. Granted, it was open court for the Labyrinthian kingdom, so at least the throne room wasn’t filled with goblins and chickens, but that didn’t make the complaints the Goblin King was forced to endure any less painful. Glancing at Nerissa, Jareth was relieved to see that she was no longer showing any sign of being affected by Sarah’s scent. For days now he had been soaked with her scent constantly, then several hours it had completely disappeared. At first he had assumed that the girl had finally managed to find pleasure at her own hand – but no…that couldn’t be it or a crystal would have appeared in his hand, forcing him to witness her pleasure. It wasn’t until a lavender crystal had drifted through the window and popped above him, dropping a scroll in his lap, that he knew why her scent had abated so suddenly.

_Jareth –_

_Sarah has gone on her date. As your Queen I ask that you resist the urge to spy on the girl or send your horde to cause mayhem. And as your mother, I assure you, she will feel no love for the boy. You must trust me on this._

_~ Mother_

Although he was honor bound to adhere to a request of his Queen, it was only with a great deal of will that he was able to do so. He wanted nothing more than to call up her image and make sure that no true feelings developed between the two mortals. It was only the fact that the scent of Sarah’s desire had completely disappeared that let him relax a bit. No desire…meant no feelings, as far as Jareth was concerned.

But it was not to last.

Several hours later he began to notice the faint scent of sweet desire upon the air, and could feel it coursing through him via the familial link. Sighing, he clamped down on the link to dampen the way Sarah’s own need fed his.  Glancing down at his hand, Jareth was unsurprised to find a crystal had appeared, showing himself and Sarah in a simple, yet potentially compromising position. Jareth’s elegant eyebrows drew together as he considered the image in the crystal. It wasn’t a dream, clearly, or he would have been pulled into it. Yet, it wasn’t showing Sarah’s latest attempt to find physical release either. Frowning, it took him a moment to realize what he was seeing. “Sarah’s fantasy,” he murmured, his lips curling in a satisfied smirk, at the knowledge that she was conscious and willingly fantasizing about him – while she was on a ‘date’ with the silly mortal boy.

Flipping the crystal into the air, Jareth’s smile lingered despite the endless parade of boring court business. As the minutes passed, the scent of Sarah’s arousal grew heavier around him, until even Nerissa was starting to notice, the Huntress’s nose flaring as she peered around slowly.

Without warning, a sharp bell rang out in Jareth’s head, making him grab his temples as he groaned in pain.

“Your Majesty! What is it?” Nerissa asked, resting her hand on his shoulder as the citizens crowding the throne room stopped and watched their king in shock.

“Sarah…she’s in danger,” he gasped, as the shield alarm went off once more, stronger this time, the force making his teeth clench tight enough it was a wonder he didn’t break one.

Opening the familial link fully, Jareth felt a sickening wave of fear and anger from Sarah, even as the throne room echoed with Sarah’s voice, “Jareth!”

The Goblin King rose from his throne and crossed the room swiftly, his form shimmering with each step, until he was robed in the heavy armor of his formal Goblin Regalia, heavily embossed dragonscale armor encasing his body.  Before any in the court could react, the Gobin King disappeared in a haze of black glitter that swirled upon the air long after he was gone.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Brian grunted as Sarah arched violently under him, throwing him off her body. With an enraged shriek she scrambled to her feet and launched herself at him, her nails slashing across his neck and jaw, leaving stinging welts of red. All Sarah knew at that moment was that someone other than her mate had attempted to touch her. Inside the feral Sarah seethed with hatred for the imposter, howling one enraged word repeatedly – _MATE!_

Grabbing her by the throat, Brian slammed her hard against the brick wall, her head bouncing once more against the dirty stones. Sarah’s eyes glazed over momentarily from the pain and force of the hit, giving him enough time to push her skirt the rest of the way up. Brian grabbed the thigh of her tights and gave them a vicious tug, a ripping sound echoing in the dark alley. Struggling despite the hand squeezing her throat, Sarah heard the sound of a belt, followed by a zipper being lowered. Her rational self was finding it harder and harder to compete with the blood lust and rage of the feral self, as the bond mark throbbed and burned with each touch from the impostor. Forcing the feral side down, Sarah opened her mouth and did the only thing she could – she screamed.

“JARETH!”

A moment  later he was there, the smell of magic hanging heavily in the air, while an ethereal breeze whipped and snapped his leather cloak around. Sarah moaned at the sight of him, the sharpness of his aristocratic cheek bones and steeply angled eyebrows, setting off his icy glare. Drinking him in, her feral self screamed inside, longing to claw, bite and claim him – _MATE!_

Without a word, Jareth reached out, grabbing Brian by the back of the neck. He jerked the boy back so quickly from Sarah that Brian’s shout of protest came out a strangled squawk, which was further cut short as he was bodily hurled to the end of the alley.

“Hands off…what’s _mine_!” the Goblin King hissed, his usually pale eyes glittering like obsidian stars trapped in the depths of Hell.

The alley echoed with the sound of crashing and banging, as Brian landed amidst a group of overflowing garbage cans, their putrid contents spilling over the ground and the boy.  Breathing deep, Jareth’s eyes glittered darkly at the stench of rotting flesh that coated the wretched excuse for a mortal – a stench that was not merely from the refuse he was now sitting in.

 _He’s Fae touched –_ thought Jareth as his nostrils flared, trying to combat the variety of scents, not the least of which was the clear scent of the Dark Fae which surrounded the boy, combined with the putrid stench of rotting garbage and the now overpowering scent of Sarah’s need.

Brian shuddered, gazing up in wonder at the man who now stood between himself and Sarah. He was tall and imposing, dressed from head to toe in black armor, a ghoulishly gruesome face caught in mid-scream embossed upon his breastplate. As the man stalked toward the cowering boy, his booted feet clicked sharply on the dirty cement of the alley, the movement making his cloak shift and swirl around him. Brian’s eyes caught momentarily on the deep blue-black of the inside of the cloak, the material seemed to shimmer and flicker, giving him the distinct impression that he was gazing into the depths of the abyss, and when the enraged man turned his black eyes on Brian the boy realized that the abyss was indeed staring back.

Moaning, Brian felt warmth running down his legs. He was afraid of his Master, but this…this… _being_ , for he was sure the man was not human, terrified him far more than his Master ever did.

A wicked sneer curled the Goblin King’s lips when a new scent joined those of the Dark Fae mark, rotting garbage and as the growing scent of Sarah’s arousal. The boy was terrified, and rightly so. The maliciousness in the Goblin King’s expression only intensified, knowing that by the time he was through with the boy, he would be far _more_ than merely terrified.

Jareth was drawn from his reverie by a low growl from Sarah, a growl that resonated within his very soul. His dark eyes shifted, locking upon her equally dark eyes, her lips curled back over her fine teeth in a feral snarl, a sound which tore at him, as a feral voice roared back inside him – _MATE!_

Waving a hand at the boy, Jareth froze him, stopping time around them. The second the world froze, Sarah launched herself at him, her body, though smaller and lighter than his, generating an ethereal amount of force as she struck him. Her hands slid into his hair, clawing at his scalp and forcing an answering growl from Jareth as she drew blood – all while pulling him into a hungry kiss. A vicious snarl rumbled in his throat as he lifted her, his gloved hands tightly grasping her thighs, then turned and slammed her bodily against the wall, her legs automatically wrapping tightly around his hips.  Jareth didn’t know if it was in self-defense, his own need or in response to hers, all thoughts were gone except for the feral voice that howled within him. Pinned between the hard armoured body and the wall, Sarah growled and fought, all the while kissing, biting and sucking upon every inch of Jareth’s exposed flesh she could reach – and all the while the scent of her need poured off her until it filled every cell of Jareth’s being.

All Sarah could think of was touching and marking the male in front of her, marking him as her own. When he twisted his hand tightly into her hair, the pain sent an odd jolt of pleasure through her, making her howl her approval – yet still she fought against him, the feral part of her striving for dominance, or to be forced into submission. Jareth jerked her head back harder, sending jolts of pain sizzling across her scalp and down her spine, while heat pooled between her thighs at the rough caress. His lips curled around his pointed canines, as he glared at her, his eyes glittering coals which sparked an even greater heat within her. That was all the warning she had before he captured her lips in a searing kiss that spoke to the feralness in her. He gave a forceful snarl as his teeth latched onto the side of her neck, which made the feral side within her roar in response – _ALPHA!_

Recognizing his power over her only made the need worse. Sarah whined and snarled, grinding herself against him, her thighs tightening around the lithe, but steely man who held her pinned as captive against the wall. With a growl of his own, she felt him push back, the hardness of his armour rubbing roughly against the tender skin between her thighs. Whimpering, she reached for his waist, wanting nothing more than to free him of the armour. “Mate,” she gasped, her voice low and breathy. “Please.”

The pleading in her voice was nearly his undoing, as the feral side of him demanded that he take the invitation. Forcing the feral side down, Jareth groaned at the overpowering smell of her need, while she continued to undulate against him, her fingers scrabbling at the bindings of his armour.

 _Must…resist…its…l’hrev…and the…bond –_ he thought, while his own mind rebelling against anything except the urge to take her, thrust into her and claim her. _Must…give…release…ease…the call._

As he pushed the feral need deeper within him, Jareth used her response to his feral power as a means of giving her what she needed, without compromising their relationship – much.

Giving a deep, dark growl of authority, Jareth latched his teeth into the side of her throat once more, the feral side of him howling its pleasure at the way her body stilled against him, giving in to his dominance. He grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head, tightly gripping them in his left hand. Still growling, his eyes locked onto hers, demanding her attention and submission. Within him, the feral side roared again, at the whine of submission that seeped past her lips, her eyes glued upon his face, as he lifted his right hand to his lips and bit into the fingertip of his glove, slowly peeling it from his hand. Once his hand was bare, her whine grew louder and more insistent, as her hips ground more frantically against him.

Jareth snarled, sucking at her flesh between his teeth in an effort to keep control, while his bare fingers delved between their bodies, easily finding her slickness. She hissed and arched against his body with a need whimper that turned to a moan as he slowly slid one finger deep into her. In response, Sarah tried to move against him faster, only stilling when he gave the dark, rumbling growl again. When she had stilled again, he began to touch her in earnest, knowing that the quickest way to ease her suffering and his own, would be to bring her the release she so desperately needed.

Her body grasped and sucked at his finger, while inarticulate whines and pleas fell from her parted lips.  Feeling the slick wetness spreading, Jareth hissed with pleasure. As her body responded so readily to his touch, he eased a second finger into her tightness. He was prepared to stop if she showed discomfort, only to be surprised when she growled, baring her teeth and throwing her head back, her body seeming to massage his fingers, until she began to grind herself onto them. Her breath came as heated pants against his ear as she rode his hand, his thumb rubbing firmly against the slippery bud with each grind of her hips. Twining her hands into his hair, Sarah snarled as she tugged his lips to hers, biting and sucking on them as her body convulsed, a whine of completion echoing within the confines of the alley. Panting from the power needed to control his feral instincts, Jareth groaned at the burst of warm wetness that slid down his fingers, coating his hand.

Just as suddenly as the feral need from both of them had begun, it faded. Jareth slid his fingers from inside her, and carefully set her back on her feet. In sheer seconds, the overwhelming scent of her need that had been suffocating him for days, faded to a mere wisp. He watched her warily, nearly cringing as he saw the exact moment when her feral need left her and she was faced with all that had just happened – her horrified expression saying it all.

“No…no…not this…we can’t…Oh God…no,” Sarah gasped, a choked sob catching in her throat as she buried her head in her hands.

Wiping his wet fingers against the thigh plate of his armour, Jareth sighed, feeling his heart tighten in his chest, as if hardening at the look of revulsion and dismay on Sarah’s face. “Come, Sarah…I’ll take you home,” he murmured, reaching out his now gloved hand toward her.

“No! No!” she gasped, her voice rising to a scream as she backed fearfully away from him. “Not Underground…”

Jareth felt his heart chill further, all the while forcing his own pain back as he gave the upset girl a gentle look. “Relax, Sarah…home…the manor. Your rooms, Precious. Mother will take care of you, while I deal with the boy who attacked you.”

After days of being surrounded by the scent of her desire, to smell and feel her fear and despair was enough to make Jareth long to make a wish of his own. _Gods, her arousal might have been torment, but nothing is worse than her fear of me –_ he thought miserably, his heart aching further.

“Brian,” she mumbled, then looked around the alley. Seeing the frozen boy sitting among the refuse, a dark look flickered across her pale face. “Unfreeze him.”

“Sarah…I hardly think now is…..” Jareth began, only to stop at the darkness filling Sarah’s eyes when she looked at him.

“Unfreeze. Him.”

With a wave of his hand, Brian unfroze, while the rest of time stood still. Jareth watched Sarah, torn between pride in the strength of his girl, and surprise at her actions, when she walked up to Brian and kicked him fully between the thighs, before ramming her fist into his nose. The boy shrieked in pain as he collapsed, rolling about in the scraps and filth of the alley. When she had exacted her own justice upon the boy, Sarah returned to his side and merely nodded, her eyes resolutely on the ground, unable to meet his gaze. Waving his hand toward Brian, Jareth froze the boy once more, then Jareth flipped a crystal into the air as he lay a gentle hand on Sarah’s shoulder, transporting them to the manor, while time in the Above continued to stand still.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Jareth and Sarah arrived instantaneously in her rooms at the manor, the air in her room smelling of residual ozone and magic from the force of their arrival. The moment their feet touched the carpet, Jareth sighed and murmured, “Forgive me,” as he waved his hand in Sarah’s direction, freezing time around her. Titania rushed into the room in time to see Sarah freeze, a deep frown creasing her usually calm face.

“Jareth! What is going on?! I was with Father when your message came through,” she said, rushing toward Sarah and Jareth. “I smell blood. Is she hurt?” she demanded in the next breath, her pale eyes quickly scanning both of them.

Puzzled, Jareth inhaled deeply, noting the smell of iron in the air. His eyes immediately darted toward Sarah, the only one in the room who would give off such a scent. Glancing over her body, he saw no sign that she had been injured, yet the scent lingered. With a frown, Jareth went to run his hand through his hair, only to stop as the scent increased. His eyes widened as he ripped the leather glove from his hand only to find his fingers and hand streaked with blood. Before he could breath a sigh of relief in the knowledge that Sarah was not seriously injured, he saw his mother’s eyes narrow and knew she must have realized the blood on his fingers was Sarah’s.

“Answers. Now, Jareth,” the diminutive woman ordered, in a tone that not even her husband would argue with.

Jareth sighed and nodded, “Sarah’s scent has been growing for days. A boy at the theatre has apparently been touched by Dark Fae. He responded to her scent and attacked her. When her crystal shield went off, I intervened, only to have her attack me. It was…instinctual, Mother. If she felt what I did, then it was purely feral instinct, a desire to claim one’s mate.” Seeing the concerned look on Titania’s face, Jareth shook his head. “I did not claim her, Mother. I’m not a fool – even a lovesick one. I resisted the need, but did what I could to slack the worst of the desire, although I believe she has started her moon cycle,” he frowned, glancing at his fingers. Like most males in his world, a woman’s cycles were no mystery to him, he had been well taught from an early age to respect the moon cycles, for both their reproductive element and the powerful sex magic that could be accomplished at such a time. At this particular moment however, Jareth found the timing to be inconvenient – at the very least.

Breathing a sigh of relieve, Titania nodded. “Well, that would definitely explain the feral lust that developed.” She patted Jareth on the arm and gave him a warm smile. “I’m proud of you for resisting the lust, Jareth. A lesser Fae would have given in.” Then her frown returned, as she looked at the purple bruise already blooming on Sarah’s cheek, taking in the other bites and bruises upon her throat.

“I’m afraid Madame, the bruise on her cheek and the bumps on her head are from the boy who attacked her, but the marks on her throat are…mine,” he said, cringing as the words left his lips, half-expecting his mother to berate him for it. Instead she merely squeezed his arm.

“Darling, when it comes the feral lust of a bond match, a few love bites is the least of the damage you could have inflicted upon the girl – not to mention the damage she might have done to you had you given into the need,” Titania said, giving her son a reassuring smile. “Now, go deal with the boy. I’ll tend to Sarah and heal the marks on her neck before she even knows they are there.

Jareth nodded, glancing once more at Sarah, before dipping his head and lightly kissing his mother’s cheek, something he had not spontaneously done in many years. “I trust you with…the keeper of my heart,” he murmured, before vanishing.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Returning to the alley, the Goblin King felt his true nature fighting to emerge, despite the rules against such a thing. He stalked across the broken asphalt of the ground, waving his hand at Brian as he went, the boy immediately resuming his choked cries of pain.

“You sought to ruin the one I would have as my queen, boy,” he hissed, his pale eyes visibly shifting from blue, to black, then a glowing red.

The pain in Brian’s testicles was nothing to the pain he felt as the terrible red eyes of the armoured man bore into him, forcing an agonized scream to tear from his throat. “Noooooo!”

“Oh _yes,_ boy!” Jareth snarled, reaching down and grabbing the boy by the throat and squeezing tightly. The boy kicked his feet as they dangled above the ground, his hands clutching uselessly at the gloved hand that held him aloft. “Now…I know you are not Fae, so tell me who you work for. Who would _dare_ touch that which is already Fae touched by me?”

Gasping as he clawed at the hand around his throat, Brian’s eyes bugged wide with his struggle to breathe and speak. “The….Goblin…King…..” he squeaked in a breathless whisper.

Brian felt his heart seem to stop at the look of absolute fury that blazed in the red eyes of the strange man. The hand around his throat tightened further until the boy began to see fuzzy darkness creeping into his peripheral vision, as unconsciousness beckoned.

“I AM THE GOBLIN KING!” Jareth roared, his words making the very walls around them quake, until bits of brick and stone rained down upon them. Flinging Brian’s now limp body to the ground, Jareth dropped a crystal on the unconscious mortal, making him vanish from the alley. In the next instant a crystal appeared before him, floating in mid-air, as a familiar furry face appeared. “Didymus!” the Goblin King barked, his anger only abating slightly at the way his devoted advisor cringed. “The mortal boy that has appeared in the dungeon attacked Sarah tonight,” he said, only to be cut off by the outraged words of the small fox-goblin.

“Gracious! My Lady! Is she all right, Sire?” Sir Didymus demanded, his muzzled tight as he bared his teeth.

The Goblin King nodded tersely, “Yes. I saved her from what the vile creature had planned.”

“Shall I see to his execution?” Didymus enquired, only to blink in surprise when his King shook his head.

“As much as I would dearly _love_ to see the curr put to death for his crime against my Sarah, I cannot in good conscience do so, Didymus,” Jareth sighed. “The boy is touched by Dark Fae. And from the scent of him, I suspect he has actually been marked. His actions were not his own. Have Maeve visit him and remove the mark. Then arrange for a changeling to be settled in his place in the Aboveground.”

Sir Didymus took notes, only to frown and shake his head, despite the hard look that earned from his King. “But Sire, shouldn’t we remove the mark and return him Above? That is the law.”

While he understood his subject’s objection, Jareth shook his head in return. “To do so would effectively sentence the boy to death. If a Dark Fae has marked him, it is not safe to return him. You and Maeve shall see to his rehabilitation, then we will see what is to be done with him. I dare not adopt him out to one of the Fae families though. Perhaps he might be of use as an indentured servant down the track. For now I want him held in the dungeons and watched in case the one who marked him is foolish enough to try to come for him.”

Sir Didymus nodded his understanding, then disappeared as the crystal popped.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Sarah shut her eyes as she felt her body being sucked through the void, as sensation she remember from her first time being transported by Jareth. When she opened her eyes next, she found herself in her room, with Titania rushing up to catch her as her knees gave out and she wobbled on her feet

“Easy, Sarah. I’ve got you,” the High Queen said, wrapping sure arms around her and helping her into the bathroom. “Jareth told me what happened. I’m here to help,” she added, as the girl dissolved into tears. “Shhh…it’s okay…it’s okay, darling.”

Titania eased the girl to the bed, muttering a quiet word that both cleaned Sarah up and changed her into the soft flannel pajamas Titania had come to learn were Sarah’s favourite. As the girl cried, the High Queen rocked her gently, murmuring gentle words of comfort.

“I can’t believe he…we…did that,” Sarah sobbed. “What’s _wrooooooong_ with me?!”

“Oh darling, there is nothing wrong with you,” Titania sighed, giving the distraught girl a motherly squeeze. “Fae bonds are strange things at times, Sarah dear. They drive us to do things that we might otherwise not do.”

For one of the few times in Titania’s long life, she felt helpless and the sensation was not any more comfortable this time, than the last. Sighing she stroked Sarah’s hair, only to see Jareth shimmer into being at the foot of the bed, his heavy armor now exchanged for  Sarah glanced up and moaned, burying her face against Titania’s shoulder.

“No…go away,” Sarah groaned. “I don’t want to see you.”

“I can understand that, Sarah,” Jareth said quietly, his heart aching at the way she cringed away from him.

Titania pursed her lips, shaking her head at him. While she adored her only son, this was not the time, “No, Jareth. You know that you two can’t be together until l’hrev finishes. It is too dangerous, to both of you.”

Sighing, Jareth stood firm, his pale eyes pained at the sight of Sarah’s distress. “Far more dangerous to both of us if I don’t speak to her, mother,” he said quietly, longing to take Sarah in his arms and soothe her pain.

Titania kisses the top of Sarah’s head. “Speak to him, darling girl,” she whispered, then released Sarah. Rising she crossed the room, pausing only to gently pat Jareth’s arm as he stood by the bedroom door.

Sarah sat silently as Titania left the room, the door closing behind her with a muted click. “I don’t know what came over me,” she muttered, unable to look at Jareth. “I’m so ashamed.”

“No, Precious. You have nothing to be ashamed for,” Jareth sighed, he words spurring him to move toward her. Gingerly he settled on the foot of her bed, leaning gracefully against the twisted oak upright of the post. “Sarah, I’m sorry for touching you like that. Had the situation been any different,” he said, his hand clenching into a fist to force back the urge to reach for her and caress her cheek. “I didn’t want to violate you or hurt you – I would _never_ do that, but given the amount of lust you hit me with at once, if I didn’t do something to reduce it, the outcome could have been far…well…worse.”

Seeing her cringe once more at his apology, Jareth felt his heart crack a bit inside. “I’m so sorry, Sarah. I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, a wave of self-loathing rushing through him from the way she seemed to pull away from him.“I hate that even my presence hurts you.”

Sarah sniffed and sighed, shaking her head. “You don’t hurt me, not anymore,” she finally whispered, tilting her head up and giving him a timid look. “I just…I don’t understand what’s going on. I thought the bond was supposed to fade?”

Jareth frowned quietly and shook his head. “I don’t understand myself, Sarah. In some ways, despite the bonding illness, we are responding as a proper pair-bonded couple would. In a bonding pair, when the female has strong emotions, the male will feel them as well. It is supposed to help bind them together more strongly.  When your l’hrev cycle hit alongside the bonding illness, it let me feel your anger and…desire as if they were my own, probably because I was already mad at you, just like you were already angry with me.” _And dealing with my own desires_ – he thought to himself.

“Oh…but that still doesn’t explain why when he attacked me, there was something inside me that seemed almost….” Sarah began, then bit her lip as she frowned.

“Feral?” Jareth suggested, recalling his own emotions during their time in the alley.

“Yes…and I just _knew_   that he wasn’t my… um… mate?” she muttered, blushing deeply as she hung her head. “It’s crazy. Then I saw you and that same part inside me went nuts, wanting to rip your head off and…and…” she mumbled, the crimson stain on her cheeks deepening. “Anddootherthingsaswell.”

Jareth gave Sarah a quiet smile, “I know, Sarah. That is one of the effects of l’rev, or how it would be if you were bonded to a Fae of your own.”

“But we aren’t bonded, well…not really. Why would I feel that way?” she asked, still struggling to wrap her head around everything.

“In an ordinary pair bond, there is a strong sense of possession between the two, it is a way of keeping others from interfering in the process,” Jareth explained, running a gloved hand over his thigh, as he tried to sort through what best to tell her, and what she did not need to know – at least at this point. “If the bond is strong enough, then there is the desire to… ‘complete’ the bond…”

“Do you mean…um…have sex?” Sarah asked, her cheeks flushing hotly while her libido gave a lascivious moan.

 _If his fingers are that powerful, imagine what actually having sex with him would be like! – _crowed her libido,

Jareth smiled, but shook his head, “No… not quite. A bonded pair… and any Fae really, can have sex. As you’ll discover when we get back to giving you lessons about Fae culture, the Fae are rather, voracious when it comes to matters of the flesh. Sex in and of itself is not ‘consummation’ for my kind. There is more to it. It requires a deep connection, strong emotion, a desire to truly be one, as well as an acceptance of the power and magic of the other. However, to create the ‘mate-bond’, which is permanent, requires full consummation of the bond. Nothing but death can break it. So, that feeling of ‘mate’ could be explained by the bond, but with our bond being rejected, I don’t know what is going on. There is nothing like this in the annals and archives, Maeve has been looking.”

Sarah blushed and nodded miserably, the scent of guilt, bittersweet and acrid seeping from her. Jareth sighed, feeling her confusion pulsing through the familial link once more.“Don’t feel guilty, Sarah. I know you are conflicted…and I can understand it. You’re in luck though, although it may not feel like it. Maeve says that the strange fever and other symptoms were a bonding sickness. If we stay apart, the bond will fade and once it is gone, your confusion should go away as well.”

“Yeah, that’s what Titania and Maeve told me when I woke up,” she said, feeling a wave of sadness that confused her and made her heart ache inside her.

“So…until then… we must stay apart. Mother will remain here to see to you and Toby. However, as you’ve seen today, the two of us remaining separate won’t halt the l’hrev cycle, and as such it won’t stop any other Fae male who encounters you from being swamped in your scent.”

Flashes of the attack in the alley, played through Sarah’s mind, making her shudder. “Is that why Brian attacked me? Because of my…Oh God…my scent?!” Seeing Jareth nod silently, Sarah groaned, burying her face in her hands. “No…it’s not my fault. Make it stop.”

Sarah’s distress flooded the link, forcing thoughts of distance from Jareth’s mind, as he scooted across the bed and pulled the girl into his arms. “Hush, Precious. There is no ‘fault’ here. You can’t control the effects of l’hrev,” he said quietly, relieved that she didn’t pull away from him. “The only way to dampen the scent is to do what I told you and find release yourself, as often as necessary. You saw the effect it can have is essentially instantaneous.”

Sarah sighed, hanging her head and whispering, “I-I can’t…”

Watching her, Jareth felt a wave of sympathy, knowing this couldn’t be easy for her. “You can, Sarah. You have to. I’m sure your friend Angel can point you toward some suitable… instructions if you need them?” he said, hating himself for even suggesting such a thing.

Sarah’s blush deepened, “No…not that…I mean…I know _how_ to do it….I’ve been doing it since I ran the Labyrinth…um…well…not that… _shit_ … I didn’t mean what it sounded like…I just….”

Jareth bit back the amused smirk that begged to make its way across his face at Sarah’s admission, his mind filing it away form later examination. His tone was quiet and gentle when he replied, “Sarah, I stand by what I said, you can talk to me about anything…really…”

Groaning, Sarah slumped onto the bed, burying her face in her pillow. “I’ve _tried_ , Jareth… theusualtricksaren’tworkinganymore…” she admitted in a rush, her voice almost too soft to hear.

With a sigh, Jareth reached out, tenderly stroking the back of her head, as Jareth wished he could do more to ease her turmoil. After a moment, Sarah groaned and sat up again, tucking a thick lock of hair behind her ear, while refusing to look at him. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him pull a pink crystal from the air, then sit it on the bed next to her. As she looked at it, it shimmered and transformed into a pink box.

“What is it?” she breathed, daring to peek at his face, only to see his mismatched pupils peering intently back at her.

“A gift,” he purred, smiling at the spark of memory that flashed in her eyes at his words, the shy smile that curled her lips setting warmth flaring in his chest. “And…a little something more. I have heard that the item within can help those who find themselves in your situation,” he said, his hand reaching out to stop her from opening he box immediately. Feeling a hot rush prickling his skin, and seeing a fine sweat break out on Sarah’s face, Jareth sighed.  

“The fever’s back,” Sarah said, lightly pressing her wrist to her flushed and clammy forehead.

Jareth merely nodded, pulling his hand back from hers. “I’m feeling it as well. I should go, Sarah. But, please think about what I’ve said. No matter what…if you need me… I will always be there for you.”

Smoothing his gloves over his hands, Jareth rose and turned toward the door, only to be stopped before he could grasp the handle, the burning heat suffusing his skin seeming to scorch him at Sarah’s insistent touch upon his arm.

“Wait…promise me something,” Sarah muttered. E though she didn’t fully understand what she intended to ask, she just knew deep down, that it was important.

“If it is in my power to grant it,” replied Jareth, his pale eyes watching her with a searching look.

“Don’t let your heart die, Jareth. I know this is hurting…it…it hurts me too, but there is too much at stake if you let your heart harden over it,” she said. “Promise me. I want your vow…you won’t let your heart die. You _must_ find love…someday.”

Silently, Jareth nodded. “For you Sarah… you have my sworn vow,” he said, ignoring the icy tightness in his chest. Squeezing her hand on his arm, Jareth shimmered and vanished from sight.

Once alone in her room, Sarah turned her attention back to the pretty pink box, smiling at the fact that it was even topped with a fluffy white bow. Turning to the box she tugged on one of the ends of the ribbon, then slowly lifted the lid, biting her lip nervously knowing that it could be anything. Puzzled, she looked at the glittering pink tinged crystal sitting in a nest of white velvet. Reaching in, she ran her finger over the crystal, gasping as it transforms in a small crystal object of a decidedly phallic nature, with pink glass swirls up and down the shaft. With a squeak of embarrassment, she jerked her hand back, then blinked in surprise when it transformed back into a crystal once more.

Glancing back into the box, Sarah saw a small gift card. Still biting her lip, she carefully reached in, taking care not to touch the crystal, and withdrew the card.

_Sarah –_

_Never be embarrassed for finding pleasure, Sarah. It is the greatest gift you can give yourself. And someday, it will be one of the greatest gifts you can give your mate._

_~J_

“Oh…wow… magical sex toys…what next?” she muttered to herself, feeling her cheeks burn at the realization that Jareth… the Goblin King…had gifted her with a dildo.

“Magical orgasms?!” chirped her libido hopefully.

And for once, Sarah hoped that her libido was right.


	20. Bleed Like Me

**50 Shades of Fey**

**_Ch. 20 Bleed Like Me_ **

 

Candlelight flickered in the cavernous loft, casting shadows upon the walls that seemed to cavort with wicked glee over the brocade wallpaper. An observer might be forgiven if they didn’t notice the way the shadows at times, skittered across the floor to dance against a different wall, almost as if they were more than mere shadow, but something alive and sentient – and they would be right. Standing by the large balcony window, Rayvn looked out over London, his black eyes sharp and clear. He could see the small figures climbing over the rooftops and up walls of neighboring buildings; his minions fanning out in search of his servant. Growling in irritation, he glanced down into the amber depths of his glass, swirling the liquid until the scent of expensive cognac wafted upward.

Things were not going as he had planned and he knew exactly who to blame for it.

Jareth…the Goblin King.

But Rayvn had plans to get even for the role Jareth played in having him banished, all it would take is a bit of time, then he would have everything he wanted, and more.

While being banished from the Underground and stripped of his powers was...inconvenient, there were perks. Underground he was nothing but a lesser noble from a Dark Fae family line, a family with no real title or money to speak of. At least here, he was a man of wealth and means, which gave him the ability to do whatever he wished – it was amazing what you could get away with if you had the money to pay others for their silence.

Hearing a weak moan from behind him, Rayvn looked over his shoulder, his smile curling into a malicious smirk. As he lifted the glass to drink, he turned and began to stalk toward the raised bed in the middle of the room, his dark eyes washing over the naked form of the girl bound to the bed. She whimpered trying to shrink away from his evil gaze, but only managing to pull the bindings tighter around her already bleeding ankles and wrists. Rayvn smirked at the way her eyes glazed over.

"Mortals are such delicate creatures,” he laughed, the sound low and unsettling in the silent loft.

“Please…” the girl whispered, her dark tresses spread out upon the blood-stained pillow of the bed. “Hungry…”

Rayvn laughed again and pulled his hand from the pocket of his silk robe with a quiet rustling sound. As he moved his hand, the fingernails lengthened to vicious points, which he raked roughly down the girl’s exposed breast. The black points tore long stripes into her flesh, leaving blood to flow freely over the ivory curve of her breast.

“There is no point to feeding a stupid beast,” he chuckled, flicking the tip of his tongue over his bloodied nails.

She looked up at him, her glassy green eyes wide and pleading, while the tears started to fall once more. He relished each tear. Each whimper. Each sob. Each scream. Oh how he loved her screams.  But as much as he loved them, she was not the one he wanted to have screaming at his mercy. Viciously he slashed at her again, leaving bleeding gouges down her ribs. No, she was merely a poor substitute for the one he really wanted.

Sarah.

“Now why…is Jareth protecting that mortal girl?” he mused, dragging his fingertip through the flowing blood then stirring it into his drink before sipping it, the sound of the girl moaning making his cognac taste even sweeter. “What is so special about her that the Goblin King would keep her close to him, but not mark her.”

Thoughtfully, he wrapped his hand around the girl’s throat and squeezed tightly, his eyes dark as he watched her struggle and wheeze. If Sarah was so important to the Goblin King, there must be something special about her. That alone was enough to make him want her, naked, bleeding and under him as he claimed her for himself – to kill her with his ‘love’. An evil sneer curled his lips, while the naked girl’s face turned dusky, before he finally released her throat, leaving her heaving and gasping for air, with dark purple bruises already springing up on her throat. The girl in front of him was nothing. He wanted Sarah, wanted to claim her before Jareth touched her, rendering her ‘untouchable’ in Fae society – not that he really cared for Fae social mores.

“Speak imp!” he suddenly barked, turning his gaze to the corner of the room, where a scrawy figure stepped from the shadows, its baleful red eyes glowing as he crept closer. “Well imp…what of my chattel? Where is he?” Rayvyn demanded, his own eyes flashing red at the slow movements of his minion.

“I have found him, Master,” the imp rasped, bowing and scraping as he drew closer to his Master. “He is being held at the Crystal Palace. He attacked the Sarah girl…”

“He what?!?!” Rayvn roared, hurling his glass against the wall, the sound of shattering glass punctuated by the frightened sob of the girl. “He was just supposed to mark her with the potion, nothing more.”

The imp’s face twisted into a look of distaste as it grumbled “She’s unharmed…more’s the pity. She was protected by the Goblin King…“

“Of course he’d protect her, for some reason he’s taken this _girl_ as part of his family now,” Rayvn growled, a wicked short dressage whip appearing in his hand.

“She’s more than that…” the imp said picking up a bug from the floor. Peering closely at the bug, the imp bit into it, crunching happily.

Frowning, Rayvn glared at the impudent and infuriating creature, “What do you mean, imp?”

“She’s a wisher…I heard whispers at home that she is _the_ wisher…”replied the imp, with a disinterested shrug.

Raising his arm, Rayvn brought the whip down visciously upon the imps shoulders, his face twisting in rage. “What are you on about, you stupid beast?! Every wisher is returned above with the Goblin King’s mark of chattel – she is not marked thusly.”

“No…not true,” protested the imp. “Only those who lose are marked as chattel to the king, this girl is different. She won.”

This gave Rayvn pause. If what he said were true, then that meant Sara was even more important to Jareth that he originally suspected. “So she _is_ a wisher, and she beat Jareth,” Rayvn murmured thoughtfully, a malicious grin lighting up his face. “She must be incredibly powerful on her own to do such a thing. Her fear must be…. Deliciously exsquisite. Now why would he keep a wisher who won around, if not to ‘taste’ of her and have her power for himself?”

“Don’t know about that, but she bears his scent,” the imp shrugged, his words making Rayvn stop.

Rayvn frowned, imps were such base creatures, they relied on scents, but had no understanding of the more intricate meanings of them. “She has no mark. I’d have seen that when they were together.”

The imp shook his head, scratching at his leg, as he grew more disinterested in the conversation, “I only know what I can smell, Master.”

Snarling in frustration, Rayvn swung the whip again, striking the girl, the silence of the loft rent by the sharp cry of the girl. “Jareth wouldn’t have been foolish enough to bond with a runner, even a wisher who won. It’s just a mere taint from her being around him,” he growled, his black eyes landing on the pale face of the girl. For a split second he imagined that she was Sarah, and felt his groin tighten at the thought. “I can circumvent Jareth’s scent upon her. She’ll be mine soon enough…the sweetest peach the Labyrinth ever created – and she’ll be _all_ mine.”

“What do you want with the tainted one…she stinks of need,” grumbled the imp, wrinkling up his nose. “Course, the Goblin King…he fixed that.”

Red at the imp. “What did you say?”

The imp’s lips curved as he clawed at the naked girls leg, letting loose a deranged cackle when she moaned in fear and pain. With an enraged snarl, Rayvn reached out, snatching the imp by the throat and shaking him like a toy. “Answer me!” he hissed.

“I-I wa-watched the boy,” the imp rasped. “He watched the girl. But…he could smell her stench, sweet and sickly,” he says, gagging and shaking his head. “She stinks…needs rutting… the boy attacked her, then the Goblin King arrived, saved the girl and froze time Above….but I hid. I saw. He touched her with his fingers, made her gasp and scream, he did. Made the smell go away,”

Rayvn’s eyes narrowed darkly as he digested what his minion had told him. “Well well well… the girl is _changing_. And Jareth hasn’t had the balls to claim her yet – so any mark that may be on the girl, is not complete,” he murmured, a dark grin curling his lips. “I will steal her power, right from under his nose – right under his own roof in fact.”

The loft echoed with the sound of wicked laughter, undercut with weak crying as Rayvn once more assaulted the girl – this time glamoured to look like the Goblin King’s mortal pet – Sarah.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Cracking an eye, Jareth squinted in the bright morning light of his chambers. It was still early, that much he could tell from the angle of the light as it shone through the open balcony. With a yawn he frowned, rubbing a hand over his face and dry eyes. He’d been asleep, deeply from the furry feeling of his tongue, then *poof* suddenly he was a awake. Given how late he had been up dealing with the boy who had attempted to assault Sarah, Jareth was puzzled, he should by rights have remained asleep at least until 11 – and judging by the sun as hit the wall, it couldn’t be much past 6 in the morning.

Lazily, Jareth stretched then rolled over, tucking his arm under the pillow and shifting so that the silk sheet was draped loosely over his waist and legs. He sighed and shut his eyes, giving the sensation up for a fluke, and preparing to go back to sleep. As he began to settle once more, letting the delightful ‘pre-sleep’ relaxation take him over, he felt a niggling ache in his lower back. Without thinking much of it, he reached back and rubbed the spot, before tugging the sheet up over his shoulder and trying once more to catch the edge of sleep and let it pull him under into its embrace. Then the tender aching sensation grew.

It started as a gentle ache, then blossomed until it felt as if he had two tightly wound knots of muscles in his lower back, before rippling outward to circle his hips and run in frantic courses across his abdomen. Jareth’s eyes shot wide at the unaccustomed sensation, a pained groan slipping past his lips. For a moment he struggled to remember if a new cook had started in the kitchen in the last few days, thinking that perhaps a change in staff might explain the strange pain. But no… the staff in the kitchen remained unchanged, as he was notoriously particular about the food served in his castle.

For a moment he thought that something was wrong with Sarah or Toby, but if they were in trouble the familial link would have alerted him. Pulling a crystal to his fingers, he peered in on his family, smiling at the way Toby was sprawled on his stomach, one leg hanging off the bed, his arm wrapped around the top of his head and his other arm wrapped tightly around a stuffed goblin. Jareth watched him for a moment, then frowned realizing the goblin was, in fact, _not_ stuffed, but real, and was snuggled up happily next to the boy. Snapping his fingers, the goblin disappeared into the bog and a stuffed goblin took his place. There would be time enough for his goblins to enjoy the boy’s company, but for now he needed to remain in the Above, with Aboveground friends and toys – for the most part.

Jareth set the crystal spinning a moment, before the image shifted to Sarah. He smiled, noting that she was still wearing his t-shirt to sleep in, and this time she appeared to be wearing the lounging pants as well. Watching her silently, he imagined her sleeping in one of his usual Underground shirts instead, an image that made his heart swell and ache. He shook his head to clear that thought from his mind, only to see her frown and mumble in her sleep, her body curling up a bit further. She shifted again in the bed, as if she were uncomfortable. As he watched, she groaned softly and doubled over further, just as another sickening spasm rippled around his abdomen. Seeing the pain on her face mirroring his own, Jareth finally understood what he was feeling and a sudden rush of both awe and fierce protectiveness thrummed through him.

Moon pains.

Although Jareth had been with a number of lovers, and had been with them through their moon cycles, he had never felt the pain of another before. It was something he hadn’t even heard of. He watched until Sarah seemed to relax again, as the spasm faded from his own body as well, then flicked the crystal skyward where it popped with the simple grace of a soap bubble. Rolling onto his back, he felt another wave of pain twist itself into his stomach this time, making him feel vaguely nauseated from the force of it.

_Gods! And she goes through this every cycle?_ – he thought to himself, trying to find a comfortable position to lay in before discovering a truth that women for centuries had known… where cramps are concerned, there is no such thing as a comfortable position.

Musing over this new development, Jareth was somewhat puzzled that he had not felt her pain through the familial link, yet could physically feel it. As the ache in his back tightened once more, he sighed and got up, pulling on the lounging pants draped over the foot of the bed. Ordinarily he wouldn’t bother with clothing in his private chambers, but given the fact that he was sharing Sarah’s moon pains, for some reason he felt like he should at least be partially clothed. Frowning at the odd turn of his thoughts, Jareth moved toward the mirror over the dresser and slowly pulled his fingers across the center, his words soft as the surface of the mirror rippled.

“Father, I have need of you.”

The shimmering surface swirled briefly, before Auberon’s face came into view, his beard neatly twisted with braids and wound with beads in preparation for High Council meetings. His father smiled and nodded as he sipped from a heavy mug, “Good morning, my boy. You’re up and about early. Are things all right with you and your children?” Taking in Jareth’s complexion which was more waxen than usual, Auberon frowned. “Are you ill, son?”

Jareth absently rubbed a hand over his stomach and grimaced as another wave of pain rippled through the muscles of his abdomen. “Yes and no,” he sighed. “It would seem that the bond is still quiet strong despite my separation from Sarah. I am feeling Sarah’s moon pains and they are…unpleasant to say the very least.”

At this news, Auberon relaxed a bit, his bearded face breaking into a warm smile. “Indeed they are. I remember the first time I experienced that with Titania. It was eye-opening in the extreme. She too was going through a l’hrev cycle at the time. In fact, your eldest sister was conceived during that cycle.” Seeing Jareth’s face twist in mock disgust, Auberon laughed heartily. “Luckily, your mother and I had been through the first wedding by that point,” he said, smiling fondly at the memory until a groan from Jareth pulled him from his reverie. “Fortunately, the pains outside of a l’hrev cycle are far less intense, my boy – although, I don’t suppose knowing that helps you or Sarah much at the moment,” he mused, thoughtfully tugging at one of the braids of his beard. “I am quite surprised that the bond is strong enough to allow you to share her pain, Jareth. That is usually only reserved for those who are full bond mates.”

Wincing as he rubbed his sore stomach, Jareth nodded. “I wondered the same, Father. It would seem that with my dear Sarah, nothing is ever simple.”

“Speaking of complications, I have checked upon the boy who attacked our girl,” Auberon said, his expression turning grave. “I spent last night in the dungeons with the lad…”

“Lad?! He is a monster who attacked the woman I would have as my Queen, Sir!” Jareth protested, his pain momentarily forgotten as a wave of anger coursed through him.

“Like it or not, Goblin King, the mortal in question is just a boy, the same age as the ‘woman’ you would have as Queen. He has been sorely abused and violated physically and mentally by the Fae who marked him,” the High King replied, shaking his head sadly. “In fact the mark upon him was so complete that I had to employ ancient magics in order to break it, as Maeve could not.” While Jareth growled under his breath, Auberon frowned, “Jareth, I understand your anger, but the lad deserves a measure of pity and understanding. He was bespelled and marked by a Dark Fae, being touched by our world, he was affected by her l’hrev scent and acted instinctually, as anyone of us would were we not able to protect ourselves from such impulses. You yourself nearly gave in to the instinct to mate the girl, my son…so do not be so quick to judge the lad harshly. The mark allowed him to react to her scent, his only orders were to merely anoint Sarah with the contents of a vial – “ Jareth opened his mouth to speak, only to be silenced as the High King raised his hand, “Before you ask, the boy does not know what the vial contained or what the contents do. All he knows is that his ‘Master’,” Auberon said, spitting out the word as it if disgusted him to even say it, “told him to make sure to spill the contents upon her skin.”

Pacing his bedroom, Jareth grumbled darkly, all the while continuing to rub his aching back and abdomen, the muscles rippling as another wave of cramping twisted through them. Auberon watched his beloved son and sighed, he could not fault Jareth for his anger.

“Jareth, the boy is scared and confused now, he deserves our pity and a measure of compassion,” Auberon said gently. “I sat with him long into the night once the cursed mark was lifted, explaining to him his situation, and despite the horrible thing he attempted to do, I believe the boy is actually a good lad. He understands what he did and feels great remorse over it, especially since with the Dark Fae likely to be looking for him, he cannot return home to his family.”

Jareth growled, waving a hand dismissively at his father’s words, “I care not a jot for his feelings in this. He should be punished for his attack on my Queen.”

Auberon shook his head, his pale eyes darkening within his stormy countenance, “That is enough, Goblin King! As High King, I hold the final say in how the boy will be punished for his part in this. As he was bespelled and under a cursed mark at the time, he did not know what he was doing, nor was he a ‘willing’ accomplice to whomever is doing this – in fact he was threatened through sexual and mental violence! So no, he will not be ‘punished’ by you or any other. His remorse, combined with the loss of his family and prior life are punishment enough.” Seeing Jareth open his mouth to protect again, Auberon shook his head, “Be still, Goblin King. I have given the lad over to the most trust-worthy soul I know, who will look out for him and train him in the ways of our world, so that he might become a useful member of our society.”

Unconvinced, Jareth’s icy gaze fell upon his father. “Where is he, Father? I would know so that I too may look in on him from time-to-time.”

“He’s in the care of Sir Didymus and his wife. The lad was an only child, left at boarding school for extended periods, with no real home life or family experience. Therefore I thought it best to give him that which he lacked – family. Didymus and Leonoire are excellent parents and will guide him, and with their brood of kitlings, the lad will never lack companionship and guidance,” Auberon said, noting the way his son’s anger seemed to deflate at that news.

Jareth nodded, his shoulders relaxing a bit as he resigned himself to the fact that his thirst for vengeance toward the boy was misplaced. “As you are the one who had to remove the mark, do you have any idea who placed it on the boy, Father?”

Auberon shook his head and frowned, tugging irritably at one of this braids. “I tried everything I could think of to seek the owner of the mark, but to no avail, my son. I am sorry. The best the boy could tell us is that he was the chattel of ‘the Goblin King’, which we know cannot be the truth. I explained to him that the girl he attempted to harm is under the protection of the Goblin King and therefore the Goblin King would have no reason to use such spells to anoint her. He was shocked to hear that, but vividly remembered your arrival in the alley – you made quite the impression on the boy.”

A dark smile twisted Jareth’s mouth, revealing sharp canines, “Indeed, Father. That was rather the point.” Dropping carelessly into his favourite chair, Jareth ran his hand through his hair, his expression pensive. “Father, you don’t suppose Rayvn is behind this do you?”

“Why would he have a mere mortal boy do his dirty work?” Auberon replied, his pale eyes narrowing as he regarded his son. “Rayvn preferred to take his maidens himself. And for that matter, why would he take an interest in Sarah in the first place?” Auron asks.

Jareth frowned, “He wouldn’t try for her himself because he’d have known I’d shield her in some way. And as to why Sarah…just the fact that she is under my watch would be enough reason for Rayvn to try for her. He knows she is under my protection from his visit to the manor. Beside, I did act as the primary witness in his trial, Father.”

Auberon nodded thoughtfully, “I suppose it is possible that he is engaged in some sort of revenge plot against you, but something doesn’t feel right about it. If he has managed to mark and manipulate the mortal boy, then that suggests he has gotten his powers back, so the binding of the High Council has failed. The question is how.”

“I have no answer for that, Father. I have my best advisor seeking an answer to that and watching what the rogue is up to,” Jareth replied, rubbing at the slowly twisting ache in his abdomen once more, before the pain suddenly flared to life, causing him to double-over with a low grunt of pain.

Witnessing the pain hitting his son, Auberon smiled quietly, his voice gentle, “I remember that feeling, my boy. It hurts, yes, but you should commit it to memory, as the labor pains of childbirth are worse. for When you have a bonded and claimed mate, you would do well to remember to share that burden as well….”

Groaning, Jareth glared at his father, his body still hunched over as if making himself smaller would lessen the knotted pain in his abdomen. “And I will…but for now, how do I make this pain stop,” he snapped peevishly.

“Come, come boy! I know your brothers and myself taught you better than that. You can share the burden, yes, but the only way to lessen the pain is through pleasure,” his Father laughed.

Jareth’s eyes narrowed in irritation as the glowered at the image of his father in the mirror. “Yes well, _that_ is an option I cannot employ at this point. Sarah does not want anything to do with me under normal circumstances, I’m sure she wouldn’t even consider allowing me to touch her like _that_!”

Auberon shrugged, “In that case, all you can share her burden as you are, which will make the pain less for her, but if the pain is this bad for the mighty Goblin King, imagine what your mortal is feeling. I suspect it is l’hrev making her pains worse than they might otherwise be. I know that Maeve has been to see her and has given her what she dared to ease the pains.” Seeing Jareth wince in pain again, his father sighed and shook his head. “If you really care for her, you will do what you can to ease her suffering. I thought you were the mighty Goblin King – get creative, my boy,” he said, even as the image in the mirror rippled and vanished.

Groaning as another wave of pain rippled around his torso, Jareth dropped onto the bed and fell against the pillows. _How does she stand this every month?_ – he wondered, rubbing at the ache in his stomach. The more he thought about it, the more irritated with the situation he became. _I’m 793 years old, it isn’t like this is the first time I’ve known a woman with pains from her moon cycles…_ \-- he thought, idly remember how he would help past lovers through their pains, by merely locking the two of them away for several days, and taking his time to pleasure her as often as necessary to keep the pain at bay. Unfortunately, that was not an option for Sarah. As he tried to rub away the knotted ache in his back, he frowned again, his nose twitching. Slowly but surely, he was starting to smell her need once more.  He’d gifted her the special crystal to help with allieviating her need, but the scent was stronger again, mixed with the scent of iron, which made his blood pull and itch in his veins. Even on it’s own, the scent of her need clawed at him, but the addition of the iron in her blood made the mental itch almost maddening, as if his very body knew that she would be fertile and could be bred. Jareth growled, trying to quell the feral demands of his body. _Why isn’t she using the gift to alleviate the need?_ – he grumbled inwardly, then paused, dropping his head into the pillows in frustrated. Knowing Sarah, the answer was deceptively simple. _Bogdamnit! She’s a woman, but still so young. I bet she doesn’t know about the link between pain relief and sex. Humans are so blasted repressed about matters of sex and pleasure, I’d bet money no one has told her_ – he thought, shaking his head.

Grumbling Jareth debated whether to ask his mother to go talk to her, then rejected the idea as being too awkward for Sarah, although not for his mother, she was terribly pragmatic about such things.

_One of your sisters perhaps?_ – suggested his libido.

No… Sarah didn’t know them, so again, likely to be awkward and upset her – he sighed, then felt his stomach drop as he realized there was nothing for it – he was going to have to do it himself. It wouldn’t be any less awkward for either of them, but of the available choices, it was the only one that might spare Sarah’s feelings a bit.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Pain. That was all Sarah could focus on. Waves of pain that gnawed into the tender flesh of her stomach as if trying to eviscerate her. Groaning, she rolled over on her bed, clutching the now less-than-warm hot pack against her stomach and debating whether she had the strength to get up and go downstairs to heat it up again. As she shifted on the bed she felt the tell-tale sickening rush of warmth between her thighs and decided that she wasn’t game to move, since doing so would inevitably make her pants, bed and probably the floor look like a crime scene.

“I wish I could just bleed to death and get it over with,” she muttered with a grunt as another wave of pain ate into her.

“Honestly Sarah, I would have thought you’d be over such careless wishes by now?” said a quiet voice from the foot of her bed. Sarah didn’t even need to look to know who it was, as the voice haunted her waking and sleeping hours. “Unless you are here in the capacity of the Angel of Death, I don’t care,” she grumbled miserably. She didn’t hear the soft creaking of leather, so she knew he wasn’t in his armor, much to her libido’s dismay, as it had seemed of late, to develop a rather unhealthy interest in that armor – _‘And the crop!’_ her libido insisted, even as she inwardly shushed it.

An amused ‘tisking’ sound came from Jareth, making her jaw clench in irritation. Sarah shifted to sit up a bit, facing the foot of the bed, only to stiffen and frown, as another warm rushing sensation from her core set her nerves on edge.

“Look, if you aren’t going to put me out of my misery, can you kindly piss off?” she snapped, finally opening her eyes, only to find Jareth dressed casually in a pair of well-worn jeans and a simple white button down shirt, lounging against the upright post at the foot of her bed. Sarah blinked, finding herself momentarily fascinated by his hands. It wasn’t like this was the first time she had seen his bare hands, he had even taken his gloves off when he had touched her in the alleyway, yet his hands were beautiful – pale, slender fingers, which spoke to the natural grace of his Fae form. Thinking of the way he touched her and the strength of the release his fingers caused, sent a wave of unadulterated ‘want’ sliding down her spine to pool along with the revolting warmth between her thighs. How sheer lust and utter revulsion could emanate from the same ‘girlie-bits’ at the same time, was too much to comprehend, so Sarah focused her misery on Jareth, who seemed completely oblivious to her plight. “Go away, Goblin King.”

“Now now, is that any way to speak to someone who is concerned about you,” he asked, his amusement fading as he regarded her seriously.

Sarah marveled slightly at the seriousness that hardened his face, her irritation fading a bit at the sight. Then she shrugged. “It happens. It’s happened once a month since I was 12. I’ll live,” she said, groaning as another wave of pain sliced through her. Glancing down at her hands as they held the now useless hot pack against her stomach, she almost expected to see them covered in blood, and was only somewhat relieved that they were not.

“That bad, is it?” he asked quietly.

“No…of course not…I’m just peachy,” she grumped, then blinked in surprise at herself. Sarah gave Jareth a sheepish smile, shrinking down against the pillows on her bed. “Sorry…this just makes me…kinda cranky.”

Jareth gave a silent, but oddly reassuring nod, that made Sarah relax a bit more in the knowledge that she wasn’t going to be punished for being rude. “That’s understandable, Sarah. Not that it will help any, but I can feel the pain too.”

Jade orbs narrowed upon his face, as Sarah looked at him, confusion etched upon her face.

Shrugging, he quickly considered how best to explain without causing her even more confusion, only to come to the conclusion that some confusion on her part would be inevitable.

“I can feel your pain through the remains of the bond. It is meant to strengthen the feeling of the pair, by allowing them to share such pain,” he said. “I could block it out, but then you would bear the full force of it, and from what Maeve and my parents say, l’hrev is making your moon cycle stronger. I would not wish to have you bear the pain on your own.”

As he explained, Jareth reached over and lightly ran two fingers along the length of the hot pack Sarah held to her stomach. At first she didn’t notice anything, just puzzled over why he seemed focused on the hot pack, then she felt warmth start to emanate from it, until it was as hot as it had been when it was fresh from the microwave. She sighed as the heat started to take the edge off the worst of the pain, then gave him a weak, but grateful smile.

“Thanks…for heating up my hot pack, and for not making me feel the real strength of the pain. It’s pretty horrible as it is. At least ten-times worse than usual. I don’t think I’d want to know what it would feel like if you weren’t sharing it,” she said, feeling a warm blush creep up her cheeks at the awkwardness of discussing anything like this with Jareth. “Your mum had Maeve visit me earlier. She gave me something that tasted horrible, but it didn’t do a damn thing to stop the pain,” she sighed, then frowned.

Jareth ran his hand through his short, Aboveground styled hair, the pale strands flowing easily between his bare fingers, only to stand wildly about his head, looking more like his usual supernaturally feral   self. “I’m sorry about that, Preci… Sarah,” he said, hoping she didn’t notice his slight slip.

She did.

“I…I don’t mind so much now, Jareth,” she mumbled, looking down, a pale painted fingernail tracing the tiny, hand-sewn stitches of the quilt, following them in the labyrinthine design over the delicately pieced material.

Few things truly surprised Jareth, but her admission was definitely unexpected. Seeing her blush, he merely nodded rather than commenting on her change of heart. Another wave of pain lanced through his stomach, making him wince and rub his abdomen, while Sarah doubled over with a sharp gasp.

“I don’t care if it is taking a bath in the bog…I’d do anything right now to make this stop,” she groaned, clutching the hot pack as if her life depended upon it. “I wish you could make it stop…or someone could.”

Jareth arched an elegant eyebrow as he gave her a dark smile. “Be careful, what you wish for, Precious.” Sarah glared at him, her irritation written both on her face, but also on the sharp scent of bitter herbs that suddenly hung in the air between them. “While I _could_ make your pain cease, Sarah, I do not believe you would really like for me to do so,” he added.

“Yes I do!”Sarah protested, looking hopefully at him, only to pause at the bemused look on his face, a look that made her wary and curious at the same time.

“I’m sorry, that I can do little for you, Precious. Even Fae women have these pains, but our methods of pain relief in this situation are a bit…different. I honestly do not think you would be receptive to what I could offer at this point,” he replied. “I think we’ve already touched on the fact that Fae attitudes toward sex and pleasure are vastly different to those of mortals. Your kind are so repressed, you make things harder for yourselves.”

Sarah’s scowl spoke volumes as she huffed, clearly getting cranky. “What’s sex got to do with cramps?” she grumbled, fighting the urge to fling the heavy hot pack at his smug head.

“I’m getting to it, Precious… don’t get your knickers in a bunch,” he chuckled, and continued when she settled back again. “Moon cycles are something revered in Fae society, not something to be ashamed of. In fact, for Fae couples, whether bonded or merely casually involved, the scent of a woman during that time acts as a sort of aphrodisiac for the males she is on intimate terms with. This works to the female’s advantage as the release she gains through sex eases the pains. In bonded pairs, sex during this time has mutual benefits of easing the pain for both parties.”

Sarah’s eyes opened wide at that, her mouth falling open in a shocked gasp as she fully grasped what he was saying. “You want to _fuck_ me?! Like this?! Oh my Gods…gross…no! Hell no! Are you insane?!” she squeaked in shock.

Jareth shook his head, a hearty laugh bursting from him at her shock and outrage. “There are so many things wrong with what you just said, that I admit I am not sure where to begin…” he chuckled, his blue eyes sparkling merrily.

“Well you can begin by not laughing at me,” Sarah pouted grumpily, as the urge to throw heavy objects at him flared again.

Almost as if sensing her leanings toward violence, Jareth swallowed his laugh but not his smile, giving her a contrite nod.  “First of all Precious, let’s address the idea of ‘fucking’. It is a coarse term and not to be used in polite society, whether mortal or Fae. However as it is just you and I, behind closed doors having a candid chat, I won’t punish you for it.”

Sarah sighed, but nodded, knowing her parents had felt the same about that particular word.  Still, she was grateful that he wasn’t going to be an ass about punishing her when she already felt like Hell. “Thanks for that, I suppose. I mean, this pain every month is kind of punishment enough, don’t you think?” she muttered, rubbing her stomach.

“Quite,” he said with a firm nod, then continued. “As to fucking as an activity, for me, there are distinctions. Yes…the Fae ‘fuck’. As hard as it may be for you to hear or understand, we enjoy sex, for personal, physical, emotional and even political purposes.”

“Political?” she parroted, looking vaguely nauseous, either from the pain or the idea of sex for political gain,’ Jareth couldn’t quite tell.

Knowing that there were many things about Fae culture, politics and matters of sex that would shock her if she knew, Jareth dismissed the topic with a wave of his hand. “We’ll go over that aspect of things later on in your culture and society lessons, the point is, we enjoy sex and are not ashamed of that. There will be balls that you will attend by my side, where those that wish, can engage in what mortals would likely call an ‘orgy of the flesh’ – and before you ask or get your puritanical knickers in a twist once more, you do not _have_ to participate in such things, I’m merely using it as an example for now.” Sarah gawked at him, looking repulsed and curious at the same time. Seeing her open her mouth to interject, he continued on before she could interrupt him, “At an event such as that, the vast majority of people participating are ‘fucking’—where the act is something hurried. A quick means of gratification.”

Cheeks aflame, Sarah nodded, “Yeah. That’s mostly what kids at school do I suppose. Quick because they could be caught any time.”

Jareth smiled, knowing the truth of her words.

“Indeed.  I’ve participated in my share of dalliances of that sort at such events over the years. For someone in my position and single, it is expected, however as a general rule of thumb, I dislike ‘fucking’ both as a term and an activity. Fucking is coarse and hurried, I much prefer _nwyfre_ – that is I prefer to take my time when it comes to sex. I suppose in mortal parlance you’d call it ‘making love’ but I find that phrasing imprecise for what I enjoy, and what the Fae do, particularly those who are bonded to one another.”

The flush staining Sarah’s cheeks deepened, as she tried desperately not to think about what Jareth must be like when he engaged in nwyfre, or made love. Even ‘fucking’ her libido was sure he would be glorious and wonderful and…and… _‘Godlike’_ – moaned her libido, to the agreement of Sarah. Sarah gulped as she felt her cheeks burn, she dropped her gaze, once more tracing the paths of tiny stitches on the quilt.

Pausing momentarily, Jareth let the familial link flare open, sampling the chaotic rush of emotions from Sarah – confusion, embarrassment, lust, curiosity and surprise.

“I suppose all of this is a somewhat long-winded explanation to say, no, I do not want to ‘fuck’ you,” he said, while his inner-self added silently -- _‘Rather…I want to spend days… no, all of eternity demonstrating nwyfre to you…until you crave my touch with every breath.’_  Unseen by Sarah, Jareth’s jaw ticked as he forced the inner voice into silence once more.

“Oh…so you don’t want to…you’re not interested, gotcha,” Sarah mumbled, hanging her head.

Surprised, Jareth watched as a crestfallen look flitted across her face, before her expression turned hard once more, her attention still on the quilt. He reached over, gently curling his fingertips under her chin and lifting her head, forcing her to look at him despite her reluctance.

“Is that what I said?” he asked quietly. Releasing her chin, Jareth found that he was pleased when she didn’t look away again. “I believe I merely said I did not want to _fuck_ you.” Before she could fully digest his meaning, he continued. “As to sex during the moon cycle of a female, it is not ‘gross’ as you so eloquently put it.”

As he had expected, Sarah was sidetracked from his earlier comment by the clearly repugnant (at least to her) idea of sex and blood.  _“Mortals really are the most prudish and odd creatures,”_ he thought to himself as he watched her face pucker.

“But… ewww…the mess!” she protested in disgust, wrinkling up her face and shaking her head frantically.

Jareth merely chuckled and shrugged, “Mess? It’s natural Sarah. For a fully bonded couple, blood is nothing and sex during that time merely strengthens their bond to each other. For couples who aren’t bonded, it is still a very powerful time emotionally and magically. As to the potential for mess, Fae aren’t bothered by such things generally, but those that are engage in their intimacies within pools, baths, hot springs, lakes, showers, or even laying upon beds of grass in the forests and hills.”

Silently Sarah fidgeted with the ribbon on the pillow in her lap, her face clearly signaling her desire to ask a difficult question. “Um… you’ve ‘known’ lots of women, yeah?” she mumbled, hating herself for asking since she was afraid of the answer, but she still wanted to know. “And…you’ve…done…this…um… _that,_ ” she corrected, the fire in her cheeks flaring.

Thankfully, Jareth just nodded. “Yes to both, Precious. For one of my age, I have had my fair share of lovers and dalliances – and no, I won’t tell you my age or the number of partners I have had. All you need know is that by Fae standards, I am experienced, but far less promiscuous than other single Kings are, especially when they have the High Court breathing down their neck to produce an heir.”

With her head still spinning at his words and trying to piece together the ‘interesting’ bits he kept dropping into the conversation, Sarah nodded, biting her lip, “So…you…you’ve been with women when…they… y’know?”

“When they are dealing with a moon bleed? Yes, Sarah, I have,” he said gently, noting the conflicting emotions playing out on her face at his answer. “As I told you, it is something revered for our kind. For a male to be allowed the privilege of joining with a woman at that time, is an honor and is respected as such.”

“Do…they really enjoy it?” she asked shyly, the curiosity shining clearly in her eyes. “I mean, I can’t imagine feeling attractive, much less ‘sexy’ when I feel like…. Crap.”

He chuckled , but gave her a warm smile. “I do understand, Sarah. However, since Fae society doesn’t keep such discussions as taboo, Fae males learn early on how miserable women may feel during their moon bleed, so if we are allowed the honor of being with a female during that time, we view it as our honor and duty to not expect her to feel or act ‘attractive’ or ‘sexy’ as you put it…it is up to us to show her how attractive and desirable she is to us. We worship her, which reduces the pain, tightens the bond and generally is an act of almost physical meditation. It puts us back in contact with the very essence of life – blood is life, Precious.”

Sarah sat quietly for a long time thinking this over, then nodded slowly. “Okay…so… I kind of get it, but…ugh…it still sounds like it would be sticky and messy and oh my god I can’t believe I am talking about _any_ of this with you!” she groaned, looking horrified again, her hands flying up to cover her fact. “WHY are you here discussing any of this anyway?!” she wailed, her face flushing crimson, as evidenced by the tips of her ears (the only part of her face not covered by her hands) which were nearly glowing.

Amused by her disgust and typically mortal reactions to matters of sex and intimacy, Jareth smiled. “I am here because your need is rising again, the scent has been surrounding me since I woke up this morning; not to mention the fact that you are in pain…we both are.”

“Oh…I’m…I’m sorry about that,” Sarah mumbled from behind her hands, the heated flush of her cheeks spreading down her neck and onto the bit of her pale chest that was visible under her button down shirt.

“You have nothing to apologize for, Sarah. Remember… l’hrev is natural. Lust and need are natural. Moon bleeds are natural. The Fae honor nature in all her forms, so this is not a ‘problem’ per se. But I know you will feel better and ease both your need and the pain, as well as my own, if you were to…find release,” he said  as delicately as he could, despite the forward topic of conversation. “The gift I left you, was meant to be used. It is not merely a ‘pretty crystal’.”

Sarah  groaned, burying  her face the her pillow and giving a muffled squeal of mortification. For his part, Jareth just laughed, the sound a low rumble in the quiet of the room, which made her stomach flip in a not unpleasant way.  “Why so timid about such topics, Sarah? You can sit here and listen to me discuss the difference between fucking and nwyfyre, but mention the idea of you engaging in personal gratification, and _that_ shocks you?” he asked, genuinely puzzled by her reaction.

Looking up, Sarah glowered indignantly at him before snapping, “You mean you came here just to tell me to…to… _masturbate_?!”

Nodding, Jareth absently pulled a crystal from the air and spun it across his fingertips.

 “Something like that. Sooner or later you’ll get over the shock of it, Sarah. And besides, if not me, I could have sent my mother…Maeve… or one of my sisters to talk with you about these things. Which would be worse?” he replied, rolling the crystal from one hand to the other, as Sarah watched.

She stopped cold at his words. He had a point. As surreal as it was to talk about these things with Jareth of all people, the idea of talking about them with anyone else, other than maybe Angel, was worse. Grudgingly she nodded, “Yeah…fair call. I like your mum, she’s lovely and so kind to both Toby and me, but…I don’t want to _ever_ discuss sex with her.”

Jareth grinned, “If it helps any, I dislike discussing things of that nature with her as well. But I warn you, sometimes it is unavoidable…she can be damnably persistent and nosy at times.”

Sarah giggled at the very idea. “Your mum asks about your sex life?”

“She doesn’t ask, so much as grills me forcibly and threatens me with truth spells if I don’t give her the answers she wants,” he replied with a wry smirk. “So…I get back at her.”

“How?” Sarah asked, giving him a curious grin.

“I tell her of my escapades, real or imaginary, in graphic detail,” he answered, then laughed when Sarah gasped. “Well, if she doesn’t want to know, she shouldn’t ask!”

As Sarah laughed, Jareth felt the tension subside between them while the pain level increased somewhat. _“Offer to help her with her pain…”_ demanded his inner-self, while his feral response to her scent of need roared its agreement. As much as Jareth would have been honored to help her, he knew deep down she was not ready to let him that close.

Standing up, he pulled his gloves back on and smiled at her. “I should go… I’ve said what I came to say.”

Sarah nodded, a fleeting glimpse of regret upon her face, then she looked up thoughtfully, “Hey… we aren’t sweating…I mean…the fever hasn’t returned. And, well, you’re here.”

Jareth smiled and lightly kissed her forehead, pleased when she didn’t pull away. “I had noticed, Precious,” he said, then vanished in a haze of glitter, his voice hanging in the room as her bathroom door slowly opened, and the smell of peaches and strawberries drifted into the room. Sarah peered into the bathroom Sarah saw that her bathtub was filled to the brim with cascades of pearlescent bubbles. And there, sitting on the marble step leading up into her bathtub, resting gently upon a stack of black bath towels was the shimmering pink crystal.

“Is that a hint?” she grumbled, even as her lips curled in a curious smile.

“Merely a gentle suggestion that you try a more Fae solution to your problem,” came the phantom reply from Jareth, his low chuckle purring in her ears and sending goosebumps dancing up and down her spine.

Getting up, Sarah wandered into the bathroom, nibbling her lip as she considered just what Jareth was clearly suggesting. She sat down gingerly on the edge of the tub, picking up the note laying next to the toy. Not surprisingly, she saw Jareth’s neat script flowing across the smooth linen paper –

_Dearest Sarah –_

_I’ve added an additional enchantment to your gift that might provide a little incentive to take matters into your own hands (as it were). Whenever your blood touches this as you use it, it will allow you to experience all of the physical sensations of whatever you are fantasizing about, as if it were real – all of the sensations and pleasure, with none of the potential negative effects._

_Remember, for Fae, pleasure is a good thing…whether sought alone or with others._

_~J_

*Translation: nwyfre = heaven (Welsh)

 

 


	21. Bad Moon Rising

**Ch. 21 Bad Moon Rising**

**Author’s Note:** Wow…sorry for the huge delay in updating. My muse went missing, the family has been ill, work has been nuts, I’m job hunting again…the usual chaos. I think I’ve finally wrestled my muse back into visiting me more frequently. As I have several stories that I love going at the same time, there is no rhyme or reason to when any will get updated, as I have to go where my muse takes me (and she can be a finicky thing at times). I’m thinking there will be another chapter of this story before Easter, before I may return to the Christmas one (which was supposed to be short and done before Christmas – at this rate I’ll finish it for NEXT Christmas). Oh well… such is the lot of a writer’s life! I’m also completely reworking ‘The Thirteenth Rider’ into a trilogy to pitch to a publishing company…so…yeah…there’s that.

As always, please review…they inspire me to write faster

* * *

 

Relaxing on the balcony railing of his rooms at the manor, Jareth leaned casually against the stones watching the Halloween sun sink lower behind the trees, the deepening orange glow shimmering against the crystal at the center of the miniature Labyrinth in the back garden. He could hear the final preparations for the costume ball being made downstairs, as caterers and event staff bustled about inside the manor and out. The back garden was dotted with pavilions lit with white and orange lights, under which sat tables and chairs for guests. Inside the house the ballroom was decorated in a manor that would make any ghoul proud, in fact the whole lower floor had been transformed into a haunted mansion, complete with cobwebs and ghostly movement of furniture – guests didn’t need to know it was goblins and sprites moving the furniture and giving ghostly ‘tugs’ upon their clothing.

As much as he disliked the fuss that went along with hosting a village-wide party in the manor, it was customary for his family to host just such an affair the Friday before Halloween each year – Samhain by the old rites. Glancing down onto the back balustrade, Jareth smiled at seeing his parents walking arm in arm down the marble steps, before setting out upon the crushed stone path into the ‘fairy bower’ part of the garden. For as long as he could remember (which was a considerable number of years) his parents had been the same thing for every Halloween party at the manor – Titania and Oberon.

Each year they found it quite amusing to dress as their namesakes from the Shakespearean plays, despite the fact that Will himself had apologized profusely over the centuries for describing them in such a way. Titania shimmered in a light silken gauze dress in shades of purple which seemed to change color depending upon how one looked at it. Her hair was twisted up with jewels and flowers, then topped with a finely wrought, Elven gold tiara. His father however was a bit more sedate – but only just -- dressed in pure white which sparkled with each movement, a white dragon-hide breastplate cinched around his chest, with golden accoutrements. Rather than the usual short hair and beard he wore when Above, his hair was its proper length, hanging to his waist and plaited with strands of golden thread. His beard too hung low, plaited into twists with gold strands peeking in and out of them. While their costuming was immaculate, it was the delicately fluttering wings upon their backs that seemed to entrance the visitors to the manor. As they moved, the gossamer wings shifted just enough to show off the shifting shades of blue, pink, purple and green that flowed over them as if a liquid.

He watched with a warm smile as a small bundle came rocketing out of the house and down the stairs after them. Auberon spun, catching the small boy in mid-run and swinging him up into his arms, as the lad gave the sort of exuberant squeal only small children can give. While Jareth missed the child during his exile from the manor, he was happy that the boy had taken so easily to his parents – and they to him. Even Sarah had come to be comfortable with his parents over the two weeks since her first l’hrev cycle reared its head.

 

 

As far as Jareth knew, Sarah must have been using the crystaline gift he left her when speaking to her about the effect of l’hrev and desire upon the Fae, because the overpowering need that had haunted him for days had abated following their chat. He would still feel the sensation of desire build during the day as he went about his tasks both in the Underground and Above, but soon after he ended their crystal communication each evening at 9:30, the desire would end – granted, just prior to that time the sensation would roar through him as he felt her seek pleasure and was unable to fully staunch the familial link. There were evenings that he had to fight to restrain himself rather than going to her and claiming her properly. Although the bond was weak, it seemed to have a lasting hold on the two of them, ensuring that he felt every bit of her desire and the resultant pleasure, as he were personally there to give it to her. In the end, it was far easier to have his evening chat with Sarah while he was in his bedroom, so that he might enjoy the sensations and the inevitable release that always followed their chats. After days of being unable to find release on his own, he was more than happy to enjoy the release that his gift seemed to be giving her – even though he could no longer see or hear her dreams and fantasies – an unfortunate side effect of the enchantment he placed on the gift. He felt enough of her desires as it was, he didn’t need to be able to see them as well.

When Sarah’s moon cycle ended, his mother and Maeve decided to gradually reintroduce Jareth to the household, first for a short lunch, then dinner, then longer visits. Within a week he found himself at the manor most evenings, and was back to continuing Sarah’s lessons on Fae culture. In truth, he was relieved. Although he knew there was a compelling reason to stay away from Sarah, he was concerned. Since the night of the attack, he had spoken to the boy and learned all he could about the man claiming to be the ‘Goblin King’. From the descriptions the boy gave, Jareth was nearly certain that the Fae who had claimed the poor lad was Rayven. The knowledge that Rayven was still out there and had made one attack against Sarah, struck deeply at a part of Jareth that was clinging to the bond. He wanted nothing more than to protect her, and see Rayven disentigrate into a pile of smouldering ash if he should so much as look at his Sarah again.

His hands curled into fists against his thighs at the thought of Rayvn, teeth clenching in a feral growl.

“Um…yer majesty?”

Jareth sighed, his hands relaxing as he turned his attention to the mirror above the fireplace. “Yes, Hogspittle?”

“Sorry ta bother ya, yer majesty, but some of the castle goblins got into the Samhain mead a bit early and they’re trying to get into the portal room to go above and cause a ruckus,” Hoggle said, twisting his faded red wool cap in his hands. “Ludo is barricading the door, and Didymus is trying to get them back into the throne room, but…well… there’s really too many of them, Sire.”

With an irritated frown, Jareth rose from his perch on the balcony and strode toward the mirror. “Can’t I leave you lot in charge for a few hours without you letting the goblins run amuck?” he snapped, smirking at the way Hoggle cringed. “Fine, I’ll come and sort the little cretins out,” he growled, casting another look out the windows. Seeing that his parents had everything at the manor well in hand, Jareth pulled a sparkling crystal from the air and dropped it at his feet, vanishing in a haze of golden flecks.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

“Your costume really is perfect for you, but if you don’t sit still I’ll never get your horns on straight,” Sarah laughed, trying once more to fit the second horn into the twists of Angel’s dark hair that were piled high on her head, wisps of burgundy and purple sticking out wildly amongst the plaits of black curls.

“I dunno, I think crooked horns would be kind of fitting for me,” Angel chirped, while adding another coat of glossy black lipstick to her already dark lips. When Sarah had finally secured the second horn, Angel hopped up, smoothing the short black and plaid skirt over the black tutu under it, then fluffing the crinoline puffs of the tutu up to make the skirt puff out.

Pursing her lips, Sarah surveyed her friend’s ripped red and black fishnet stockings, platform knee high boots and black corset cinched tight over crimson lace shirt. She had to admit, it did suit Angel. The whole ensemble was topped off with red and black swirled horns that curled slightly up from her head, and a black leather collar locked around Angel’s neck. “I mean… I love your costume, but aren’t you going to be embarrassed hanging out with the crème d’la crème of high society dressed like a goth hooker demon-thing?”

Angel shrugged and added a bit more red eye shadow, “Nope. It’s not like I run in their circle usually. Besides, the Rex family usually relegates the teens to the media room, game room and the labyrinth in the garden, so it isn’t like anyone besides the kids from school and the village will see me. Besides, _you_ are hardly one to talk in that get up, Ms. Sexy Fairy.”

Blushing slightly, Sarah spun in front of the mirror. Titiania had offered to create any costume Sarah wanted, only to be rebuffed by Sarah who explained that she liked to sew and would make it herself. And make it she did. Everything from the sparkling wings, to the corset covered in silk and satin flowers. She had even researched servo-motors and figured out how to make her wings flutter and glow. Hitting the small button built into the twisted vines she wore as a belt, Sarah grinned as her wings gave a flutter, making the pale pink and purple sparkles shimmer in the light of her room.

“You really should have let me dye your hair purple for tonight,” Angel said, not noticing the way Sarah’s cheeks flushed further. “It would have matched your dress better.”

Sarah shook her head and adjusted the her wig. “No… Gareth is pretty strict on that sort of thing,” Sarah said, the short bobbed wig a veil of many layers from violet to lavender. Sarah only hoped that the ombre wig wouldn’t get her in too much trouble with Jareth – although part of her was more than willing to accept the consequences of taunting him with purple hair once more. Sitting gingerly on the sofa, she pulled on the sparkling purple heels, then gave an experimental sashay around her sitting room. “How do I look?”

Angel grinned, “Well, I have a bit of a girl crush on you, so… yeah…you should make Sexy Rexy drool like a starving man.”

At that Sarah’s blush deepened. “Knock it off, Angel. I’ve asked you not to call him that.”

Ignoring her, Angel hopped up and added a bit more purple glitter to Sarah’s eyes and hair, “Protest all you want. But something has changed between you two, even if you haven’t given me all the dirty details.”

Sarah smiled, her fingers lightly running across the shimmering crystal that was still fastened around her neck. “There’s nothing to tell. We’ve just…come to an understanding of sorts. That’s all. Nothing else.”

“Hah! Tell yourself that all you want, but I don’t believe it for a second,” Angel said, then grabbed Sarah’s hand. “Come on, let’s get down to the party, I want to see what costume Sexy Rexy trots out this year.”

“I don’t even know if he’s going to be here,” Sarah said, pulling her parlor door shut as the two made their way toward the lower level of the house. “He’s spent most of the week in London except for dinner. The last I heard he was going to the US for a few days.”

Angel frowned slightly, then gave her friend a quick hug, “Bummer. I’ve haven’t seen him in costume since I was 10 and he made a big impression then --  he was a fallen angel, complete with feathered black and red wings. I mean his parents are always the same thing – Titiania and Oberon from _A Midsummer Night’s Dream_.”

Sarah choked slightly hearing that, unable to keep the smirk from curling the corners of her mouth. “Really?”

“Oh yes…and their costumes are glorious! Not as cool as Rexy dressed as Lucifer, but still…pretty epic.” Angel nodded, pulling Sarah toward the stairs, the sound of the party getting louder the closer they got to the lower floor. “I  heard that last year he was just wearing tight grey pants, knee high leather boots and this really funky leather jacket with asymmetrical bits on it and this outrageously huge collar. Sounds weird, but sexy in a kinda…I dunno… wanna be cornered by him sort of way.”

At that Sarah spluttered and blushed, feeling her heart thumping erratically in her chest.

“You okay duckie?” Angel asked, thumping Sarah on the back carefully to avoid the fluttering wings.

“Yeah just…um…let’s get down to the party,” she said with a cough, while her mind whirled frantically at the idea of seeing Jareth in the outfit she recognized as what he wore when he had indeed cornered her in the tunnels.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

The downstairs entry hall of the manor was filled with people of all ages in a variety of costumes, from simple to incredibly elaborate. As Sarah and Angel descended the main stairs, Sarah glanced around, smiling when she saw Titiana and Auberon near the door greeting guests, with Toby in Auberon’s arms, happily shouting  “Happy Samhain” to the people entering the house. With her wings fluttering gently, Sarah led Angel up to Jareth’s parents.

“Good evening,” Sarah said, stopping near them.

Titiania turned and smiled warmly, holding her arms out to hug the girl. “You look lovely, my dear. And you made this yourself?” the older woman asked, turning Sarah around to examine the lovely dress of layered silk and gauze, which lay curved over Sarah’s hips and bum like a downward lilac flower. Seeing Sarah’s wings gently fluttering, Titiania cooed and clapped her hands. “Oh my…Auberon…look at her wings. Aren’t they cunning?!” she exclaimed, as Auberon bent and kissed the girl’s cheek.

“You are a vision, Sarah dear. You could easily be one of the fairy court,” he said with a sly wink that made her blush again.

“Thank you, that is quite the compliment coming from the High King himself,” Sarah grinned, pulling Angel forward. “You remember my friend, Angel.”

Titania smiled and nodded, “Hello, Angel dear. I’m glad you could make it to the party.”

“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss a chance to hang out here with Sarah. Besides, you always through the nicest parties,” Angel grinned.

“Darling, we really must introduce Angel to Mab,” Auberon chuckled, reaching out and lightly touching one of Angel’s horns. “The old witch would likely take this little demon under her wing.”

Titania rolled her eyes and playfully slapped her husband’s hand away from Angel’s horns, “And that would only end up with Angel in trouble or turning into another Mab. And really my love, one Mab is more than enough in any plane of existence.”

Giggling, Angel let Sarah lead her away, shaking her head, “Man, they really get into character for this thing. Mab? Auberon? Titania? Next thing you know they’ll be saying Puck is lurking about!”

A slender red haired man turned toward them from his conversation, his brown eyes shining mischievously under steeply angled eyebrows, “And who might be taking the name of Puck in vain?” he asked in a thick Welsh accent. Sarah bit her lip as she realized with some certainty that this fellow was most likely the _real_ Puck, and from the looks of things, he wasn’t wearing a costume. His legs were the furry legs of a faun, while his upper body was bare, except for a golden harness arrangement which bore the unicorn crest that identified the royal family. From his forehead sprouted two curled horns. Despite the furry legs and horns, Sarah felt a momentary pang of desire, and shook her head to free herself from it. Clearly Puck had some Fae in his lineage. Seeing the glazed expression that had slid into Angel’s eyes, Sarah sighed and glared at Puck. “Away with you, wayward sprite. Go deal your mischief to someone else,” she grumbled, fingering the crystal at her throat.

Smirking, Puck leaned in more closely, his voice dropping so that it faded from the hearing of the humans in the crowded foyer, but carried quite clearly to the changeling dressed as a garden fairy. “Aye, little changeling…I see thee art marked and know he who holds the claim over you.

Sarah’s eyes narrowed as she glared at the faun, “I have no claim on me.”

She felt him lean even closer, then subtly sniff her hair, a low rumbling laugh reverberating in his chest. “Pretty peach, while a body may be claimed, so can one’s heart and soul. Like it or not, your heart and soul are claimed, by the one who longs to claim the rest of you. And since I feel his magic tainting you from without, I’d wager you have claimed his heart and soul as well. All that’s left is the _fun_ part,” he chuckled, then disappeared into the crowd, an enthralled blonde on his arm.

Angel blinked blearily and looked at Sarah, her hazel eyes troubled. With a reassuring smile, Sarah took her arm, “Come on, Angel…there’s too many adults in here, let’s go find some food and check out what’s going on in the media room.”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

The Halloween Ball was well underway before Jareth had finished dealing with the drunk goblin horde, having given up any hope of a peaceful resolution and merely banished the lot of them to sleep it off in a leaky oubliette under the bog. Brushing dust from his breastplate, he slipped through the portal back to the manor, the heavy leather of his Goblin regalia cloak creaking softly around his legs. As the clock struck 11, he made his way down the stairs into the ballroom, his pale eyes sharp while he scanned the crowd for Sarah.

“The one you seek is not here, Princeling,” laughed the red-haired faun from his seat at the bottom of the ballroom stairs, a scantily clad blonde sitting upon his lap, her arm draped around his shoulder as she nuzzled his ear.

Jareth’s eyes narrowed, a muscle ticking in his jaw at the sight. “I don’t recall inviting you, Puck.”

“I’m here at your Father’s request, besides…you know how I love the Halloween festivities Aboveground,” Puck chuckled, teasing his finger over the collarbone of the blonde and making her giggle. “So many sweet things about, just ripe for the taking.”

“Does Father know you are bespelling mortals to fulfill your debauched desires?” Jareth growled, growing more irritated with the faun by the moment. “There are rules, Puck.”

Puck merely shrugged, still caressing the woman’s neck while she purred and cooed. “Appearances may be deceiving, Highness…you of all people should know that. This particular mortal is bespelled by nothing more than drink and the suggestion of a lively roll in the hay. It is hardly my fault that she is so easily swayed.”

“Sprite, you’re taking liberties,” said Auberon, strolling up behind Puck with Titania on his arm, his own pale grey eyes narrowing angrily at the faun. 

Titania snapped her fingers and one of her ladies seemed to materialize from the ether, unseen by mortal eyes. “Serina, please see that this young woman makes her way home… safely and unmolested by our dear Puck.” The woman nodded her head, a shimmering fall of pale blue hair slipping across her face. Gently she took the blonde’s hand and guided her away toward the back of the house, while Puck pouted.

“Tis not my fault that mortals can’t hold their drink,” Puck grumbled, his voice tinged with petulance, although he dared not lift his eyes to his Master’s.

“Not when you’ve slipped them something more potent than the mortal spirits served here,” snapped Jareth, his cloak shifting around him. The anger he felt fed his magic, causing it to flare. Oblivious to the presence of magic in the air, the mortals dancing nearby became more fervent in their movements, as the magic affected them without their understanding.

Puck merely laughed, his merry eyes dancing at the spectacle of Jareth’s out-of-control magic. “Speak truth, fair prince… ‘tis not my taking liberties with a mortal wench that you object to, but the fear that I might entice your _precious_ Sarah into sampling my charms.”

The aura around Jareth snapped and crackled menacingly as he took a step toward Puck. “Father’s henchman you may be, but I want you gone.”

Puck rose and laughed, “Fine, I’ll happily go, young prince…. But banishing me from your manor won’t change the fact that you hunger for a sweet peach that you are forbidden yet to taste.”

Snarling now, Jareth pulled a crystal from the air, only to see the faun vanish into a mist, the mortals around them blind to what had happened. Still irritated, Jareth turned to leave the ballroom in search of Sarah, only to be stopped by a man dressed in an elaborate Venitian masquerade costume. Removing his mask, the man smiled, nudging a shock of dull grey-blonde hair from his forehead.

“Good evening, Gareth. It’s been awhile,” the man said, then nodded in greeting at Titania and Auberon. “Lovely party as always.”

The air around the three Fae seemed to shimmer for a split second as their Fae nature was glamoured once more, the interloper seeing only Gareth Rex and his parents. Pushing his anger at Puck’s words down, Jareth forced himself to smile at the man. “James. Nice to see you again. I assume the affairs of the country and Crown are in good order since you are away from your berth in Parliament for the weekend?” he said, giving a quiet laugh.

The man smiled more broadly at that, bobbing his head. “Indeed… I am escorting my daughter Marcy this year, as my darling wife is indisposed,” he said, taking the hand of a young woman next to him. Jareth groaned inwardly when she stepped forward, fluttering her eye lashes in a way he was sure she thought was attractive. As if it wasn’t bad enough having half the court in the Crystal Kingdom trying to interest him in their loathsome daughters, from the look of things he now he had people Above attempting the same thing. It was insulting really – whether Gareth Rex or the Goblin King, Jareth was more than capable of finding his own female companions. He had never been at a loss for female company before, the only difference was that now there was only one woman he wanted – and the girl standing before him in the short red dress covered in golden hearts, was certainly not her.

“Ahh…the Queen of Hearts, I presume,” Jareth said, plastering a smile upon his face, one which judging by the tittering coo of the girl before him, had clearly been taken to be genuine. Mentally cringing at what he was about to do, Jareth took the girls hand and gently brushed his lips against her knuckles in the barest of kisses. “Would you care to dance?”

To the people around them the gesture was innocent enough, but the moment his lips touched her flesh, the remains of the bond inside him howled indignantly, sending a sharp jolt of pain racing up his spine. Only his parents knew of his pain, Titania’s grip on her husband’s arm tightening as the pain edged through their familiar bond.

“I’d love to,” Marcy purred, taking Jareth’s arm and letting him lead her onto the dance floor.

Turning her, Jareth took her hand in his, his other hand resting as lightly against her back as he could. He wanted to find Sarah, which meant escaping both the odious politician James Kent and his daughter. Given the choice between being trapped discussing political movements in a kingdom that was not his own, or dancing with the vapid daughter of the Labour Leader, the answer was easy – dance. As he maneuvered her around the packed dance floor, his eyes scanned the other dancers searching for Sarah, it was only when he felt the girl grind her hips lasciviously against his that he bothered to look at her again, distaste wrinkling his nose.

“Just what are you doing?” he demanded, his tone restrained despite his rising anger at the girl.

“It isn’t _what_ I am doing, but what I _would_ do,” Marcy purred, tilting her head in an attempt to look sultry, a look which only succeeded in turning Jareth’s stomach.

“And just what is that?” growled Jareth, fighting the urge to stop in the middle of the dance floor while he cursed the fact that propriety and his Aboveground image forbade him from making a public spectacle of her.

The girl leaned in, cooing in his ear, “ _Anything_ you want….”

Blinking in disbelief, Jareth laughed, the sound seeming to confuse her. “So that is your father’s game? Get his daughter to seduce the most powerful man in England, then what…cry rape? Or is blackmail more his style?”

Marcy merely shook her head and smiled, “No. Father isn’t my concern. This is just for me.”

Jareth peered around the room, his lips curling in a dark smile at seeing his parents still trapped in talking to the ridiculous girl’s father. With their attention elsewhere, he let the glamour hiding his true nature shift a bit, the air around him shimmering briefly with a pale green hue. “So tell me, wench…just what is it you seek to achieve?” he purred back, his voice seeming to whisper inside her skull, making her heart race and her mind cloud. Knowing that the slight glimpse of his true nature, combined with his position as the King of Dreams and the powers unique to that position, would compel her to tell him deepest, darkest desires, he danced her toward the door to the balcony.

“Power,” the girl murmured, grinding herself tighter against Jareth’s body in a way that made him long to bog her. “As your wife I’d have more power than anyone, even father. Even as your mistress I’d have power and status.”

With a small glimpse of his true nature still visible to the hapless girl, Jareth’s eyes flickered from pale blue to red, making her gasp and rub wantonly against him in response. “And what would you do for such…power?” he purred.

“Anything… everything….I’d…be your slave,” she moaned back.

“Believe me, slut…the things you’ve done with your ‘boys’ are _nothing_ compared to I would do to a true sexual slave of my own,” he snarled, then spun her against the stone wall on the balcony outside the ballroom.  Jareth stopped with the two of them hidden from view by a large column. Pinning her against the stones of the house, the Goblin King ignored the way she whined when the edges of the stone bit into her skin, the pain easing the pall that his magic had cast upon her mind. “I’m afraid I’ll have to decline your _proposition_ little girl. You see I have no need for the well-used ‘goods’ you have on offer. Go peddle them elsewhere,” he snapped. Backing away from the girl, he spun on his heel, the leather cloak slapping against her bare legs as he turned.

“Wh…what?! No one’s ever…You…you can’t just…” she stammered, her eyes wide in surprise.

“I can…and did, girl,” he hissed, turning to face her, his hands on his hips, while his pale eyes narrowed upon the girl expectantly.

Straightening up, Marcy glared at him, a cruel smirk twisting the corners of her mouth. “Oh…I get it. You’re fucking Sarah. I _knew_ it! I knew she wasn’t….”

Before she could finish the thought, Jareth hand her pinned against the stones, hard enough that the sharp edges cut into the material of her dress. “I suggest you bite your tongue, silly girl. There are far worse things in this world than you have seen, and I would be more than happy to see that you experience them first hand if you breathe a word of that lie to _anyone_.” Only when the girl gulped, with tears shining in her eyes did he release her. “Now…get out of my sight, girl. And don’t ever come near me again.”

Fixing her dress, Marcy turned toward the door into the ballroom, only to be stopped as Jareth snarled from the shadows, “Oh and Marcy…if you should cause _any_ problems for Sarah, you will regret it…every day… for the rest of your miserable life.”

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Marcy’s face pinched with anger as she turned to scream at him, then stopped, her mouth still open in preparation for her tirade – the balcony was empty. Still fussing with her costume she walked back toward the doors of the ballroom, her blood roiling through her veins at being dismissed so coldly by him. She peered into the ballroom and growled, seeing that Gareth Rex was now dancing with his mother, a warm smile on his face as the two of them laughed.

“How dare he laugh at me. Doesn’t he know what I could _do_ to him? All I’d have to do is cry rape – Hell…just saying he made lewd suggestions and groped me while dancing would be enough to hurt him,” Marcy chuckled as she plotted how to exact her revenge, her heels striking dully on the stones of the marble stairs leading down to the back garden. She walked without thinking, her thoughts taken up by her interaction with Gareth Rex and his outright rejection of her offer.“Stuck up bastard,” she muttered to herself, “He probably can’t even get it up.” Smiling at that thought, she sneered, sure that was the reason. “Yeah…that’s why and why he got so angry,” too she reasoned. “There’s no way he’d turn me down unless….” Marcy paused, a frown creasing her face as her thoughts continued to run. “…Unless he was fucking someone else. But who… no one has been linked with him since that Somali model in New York years ago…” she mumbled to herself, the growled, her eyes darkening with rage. “Sarah! That fucking little slut! He lied! It’s not enough that she’s after my boyfriend, but she’s fucking Gareth Rex too.” Hearing laughter near the hedge maze at the center of the back garden, Marcy looked up to see Angel and Sarah laughing as they ran toward the maze. Watching Sarah, Marcy couldn’t imagine her throes of passion with anyone, let alone the formerly notorious playboy, Gareth Rex.  “Maybe he isn’t screwing her, but just wants to. I bet the frigid bitch told him no,” she sneered, her feet crunching into the crushed shells that lined the garden path leading to the maze. “So all I have to do is convince him that she isn’t worth the effort. That his ‘pure’ little darling isn’t so damn pure.”

The sound of someone running up the path cut into the laughter of the girls. Marcy darted into the shadows of the nearby gazebo, ignoring the two teenagers draped over a stone bench in the back, attempting to check each other’s tonsils with their tongues. Without a sound she peeked around the edge of the gazebo door. A boy dressed like a 1950s greaser was running up the path, the slapping of his tennis shoes sending crushed shell fragments flying behind him. Seeing Angus, Marcy smiled. She had thought her attempts to get his interest had been thwarted when he asked Sarah to the movies, but since she took ill after the date, the two of them had been cool to each other – cool enough that Marcy had been able to work her magic on him. Slipping from the shadows she answered his wave with one of her own, only to snarl when he called out.

“Hey Sarah! Wait for me!” he called, waving at the girls running toward the maze.

Loathing flooded Marcy as she watched him catch up with the girls, wrapping his arm around both of them. “Come on, we’ll race…me and Sarah against Angel…first to the center as to….” He laughed.

“Streak on their way out of the maze?” suggested Angel with a laugh.

Sarah squeaked indignantly and blushed, “No! Gareth would kill us! So would his parents.”

“Come on…what’s life without a bit of fun and danger,” Angus said, grabbing her hand and tugging her toward the entrance of the maze, while a giggling Angel ran into the second entrance, her voice drifting back into the garden.

“Live a little, Sarah!” Angel yelled, while Angus led Sarah into the second entry into the maze, a laughing goblin statue hanging over the archway as if watching them.

Marcy’s gaze narrowed as she watched him hook his arm around the Sarah, ignoring the way she pulled back and shook her head, before he finally succeeded in getting her to go into the maze, the sound of Sarah’s laughter drifting back to her.

“You bitch. I will make your life _Hell,_ ” she hissed. A wicked smirk pulled at her lips as she turned and marched back toward the house. With just a few choice words she could exact revenge on Sarah and Gareth at the same time. “Wishes do come true,” she chuckled softly, looking to see the lights of the ballroom spilling softly onto the back patio of the manor house, the sound of laughter and music floating on the air.

**~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~*~J/S~**

Jareth looked out over the dancers bouncing and jostling on the dance floor and smiled. The Halloween ball was far smaller than the usual parties he attended in the Underground, but in many ways it was far preferable – for one thing he had no ‘official’ duties to attend to. The only thing he really wanted was to dance with Sarah, but he had yet to find her. After having been assured by Titania that Sarah was fine and likely in the media room with the other teens, Jareth relaxed a bit and began to actually enjoy the party. As usual, his parents had spared nothing in ensuring that the village and special guests from London had a wonderful time. With a glass of champagne in hand, Jareth had mingled freely, chatting with his more valued London guests, as well as the few Underground expatriates who had been invited. When the clock neared midnight, he slowly wound his way through the crowd toward the doors leading out onto the patio.

Slipping outside, Jareth sighed and relaxed a bit further, letting the comfortable fall temperature engulf him, until the sound of Marcy Kent drifted to his ears. With a growl, Jareth let himself fade into the shadows and hoped the girl wasn’t silly enough to follow him. When she got closer, he heard what sounded suspiciously like tears as she talked to someone.

“Blast…I hope the silly twit isn’t telling anyone about what transpired earlier,” he mused to himself. “The glimpse of my nature should have dulled her memory of it.”

“It was awful Jennifer,” Marcy sniffed, dabbing at her eyes. “I followed Craig out to the maze thinking I’d surprise him and I _saw_ that horrible slut, Sarah Williams with him in a secluded corner. And…oh… I can’t stand even _thinking_ about what they were doing!”

“What?” asked the vapid blonde at her side.

“Fucking,” sobbed Marcy, her voice carrying clearly over the balcony so that everyone still standing about could hear her. “Sarah was there, with her skirt hiked up, fucking him like the whore she is. I can’t believe Gareth has opened his home to her and she’s abused his charity this way,” the girl continued to cry.

Heat suffused Jareth at the mental image of Sarah doing such a thing with anyone but himself. He watched as the girls moved back into the ballroom, his pale eyes dark with fury. “How can she bear to do that with anyone.  Just kissing that blasted girl’s hand resulted in pain for me?” he snarled, then felt his heart tighten at the realization that there was only one way that Sarah would be able to bear the touch of another – her bond was gone, which meant that Jareth’s would soon fade entirely as well.

Fighting to retain control of his emotions and magic, Jareth closed his eyes, concentrating on the familial thread that linked him to Sarah. For the first time since she entered l’hrev, he gradually eased the link open, letting her emotions spill through it, while bracing himself to feel passion and desire. Instead of the expected scent and feel sexual need, he let the link open fully and nearly gagged on the taste of bitter ash that filled his mouth, while a sour scent swirled around him.

Anger…and fear. But no passion.

Curious now, Jareth let the shadows engulf him, until all that was left was the faint shine of glitter upon the air, his body reappearing in the shadows of the backyard Labyrinth. Hidden in the shadows of a dead end, he saw a teenaged boy in a leather jacket, pinning Sarah to the hedge wall of the maze.

“Come on, Sarah,” the boy purred, while Sarah’s gaze darted about looking for an escape. As she moved to the right, the boy countered, pressing his weight upon her. “Just a kiss. That’s all I want… for now anyway,” he laughed, trying to kiss her as she turned her head away again. “Y’know everyone thinks you’re a stuck up bitch. Don’t you want them to know you can actually be fun?”

“If screwing you is what it will take for them to think I’m fun, then forget it! I’d rather be boring,” Sarah snapped, her anger overpowering the tinge of fear Jareth had initially felt from her.  

Jareth could feel her anger rise through the familial link and smiled to himself, seeing small flashes of red shimmering here and there around her, her own fledgling magic starting to make itself known with her rage. Smirking to himself, Jareth elected to let Sarah handle the boy’s advances, seeing as she was clearly in no immediate danger. He shook his head in wonder as the stupid boy tried once more to kiss Sarah, while his hand clumsily groped her breast through the thing material.

“I SAID NO!,” Sarah roared, the timbre of her voice seeming to vibrate in the now enclosed dead end, as the garden maze responded to her innate magic and the power behind her words, her link to the Labyrinth also linking her to this small Aboveground portion of its. Rearing back, she brought her knee up hard into the boy’s groin.

Seeing the boy double over in pain, it was all Jareth could do not to laugh, while marveling at the way she managed to take care of herself. All around the three of them, the maze seemed to come alive, as branches began to lengthen and reach for the boy. Tendrils of vines wrapped around his ankles, jerking him to the ground as they began to pull him toward the portal that had opened itself under the stone bench nearby.

“Hey! What the Hell?!” the boy yelped, trying to kick the vines loose, only to squeak when sharp branches snatched at his head and arms, leaving bleeding scratches upon his flesh.

 

Looking around in a panic, Sarah moaned, “Stop…no…come on…please….”

Jareth watched as the Labyrinth continued its attempt to avenge the Champion, heedless of the fact that she did not need the assistance. “Stop!” she shrieked, her eyes glassing over with tears, as she tried in vain to pull the vines from the boy’s legs, which were now nearly pulled into the portal – a portal which Jareth suspected led to the deepest catacombs under the Labyrinth.

Sweeping from the shadows, Jareth gestured at the portal and the vines, “Desist!” he demanded, his voice seeming to reverberate with power, until the very stones under their feet felt as if they were trying to cringe away from him.

With a startled gasp of “Jareth!”,  Sarah whirled around to see Jareth standing in the enclosed alcove of the maze, his Goblin regalia shimmering with shades of black and blue in the moonlight. At his order, the vines and branches slowly retracted into the walls of the hedge maze, freeing the boy who turned onto his stomach and scrabbled away from the hedges and the closing portal.

“While your assistance was admirable and well-timed, it is clearly not needed,” Jareth continued, lightly running his hand over a bit of the hedge wall, smiling wickedly at the boy as the quivered under his caress. With a flick of his hand, he tossed a glowing red crystal at the boy, chuckling darkly when he vanished in a haze of red glitter which then faded to nothing.

Frowning, Sarah straightened the skirt of her costume.“Tell me you didn’t just bog him, Jareth,” she demanded, adjusting the flowers along the bust of her dress. “He may be an ass, but he doesn’t deserve to be bogged.”

 “Rest assured, Sarah, that  although I’d be well within my right as monarch to do so, I did not bog the boy. I merely altered his memory to understand that you are in no way interested in him, and dropped him at home. The most pain the boy will feel from his offense against my Champion is the magical hangover he’ll have from the magic in your voice,” Jareth said, tugging lightly at the leather glove covering his hand.

Sarah bit her lip, a pensive look stealing into her eyes. “Is that what made my voice sound all… I don’t know… weird?”

Arching an elegant eyebrow, Jareth stalked nearer to her. “Indeed, that is the first of your magic making itself known, Precious. The Labyrinth has chosen it’s defender well, although it would seem the Labyrinth is quite happy to defend you as well. I must say, seeing you handle him in such a manner was…enlightening, Sarah mine.”

Shivering slightly at his words and the feral glint in his eyes, Sarah took a step back, finding herself pressed, not against the soft hedges of the maze, but against what was now a stone wall, which seemed to conform to the curves of her body and push forward, pressing her back toward Jareth. Sarah blushed at the realization that the maze must be connected to the real Labyrinth, which would explain both the fact that it had changed, but also its insistence in helping the Goblin King close in on her.

“Oh…stupid fucking Labyrinth,” she muttered, as Jareth trapped her against the stone wall with his on either side of her shoulders. The shimmering insides of his cloak teased against her legs, seeming to stroke them in a sultry caress, yet it was when Jareth peered down at her with dark, hungry eyes, that she felt the heat rush to her belly and face simultaneously.

“On the contrary, Sarah…the Labyrinth is anything but stupid, clearly,” he laughed softly. With a wicked smile, he tilted his head and blinking owlishly as he surveyed her costume. “Mother said your costume was remarkable, and she was quite correct. Of course, she neglected to mention that your hair was a delightful rainbow of purple tones,” he purred, enjoying the sudden flush of pink upon her cheeks and the burst of embarrassment, desire and oddly enough, hope that rushed through the familial bond. “Now, the hair is sorted, the only thing missing is…my sigil,” he said, letting his gaze wander down the lovely lines of her face and over the tender flesh of her throat. As his eyes reached the bust of her dress, still askew from her struggle with the vines, Jareth paused. “But what is this?” he asked, leaning back a bit and lightly pushing a silk flower aside, revealing what appeared to be a small brand upon her breast – a maze of lines surrounding what was clearly the sigil of the Goblin King. “Ahh…but then, you _do_ bear my mark,” he purred, reaching out and moving the silk flower petal to get a better look at the mark.

Sarah gasped, unable to hold it in, as his gloved finger lightly grazed the mark, a sudden burst of pleasure cascading through the familial link, while the mated bond roared to life, making his Jareth growl in response. Thoughtfully he looked at her, his tongue curling around the points of his canines. “Hmm… that’s new,” he chuckled, enjoying the slightly dazed look on Sarah’s face as he lightly stroked the spot again, only to hear her whimper as her knees wobbled, forcing him to wrap his free arm around her back to hold her steady.

 “St…stop…please…” she gasped, trying to will herself to push his hand away from the mark she had been so careful to hide when she created her costume. Feeling the warmth of his around her, she felt herself shifting further into his embrace, only to shiver with cold as he removed his hand and released her. She blinked at looked at him, torn between wanting the Earth to swallow her whole, and wanting his arm around her once more.

Watching her thoughtfully, Jareth backed up two steps, then dropped upon the stone bench, his movements controlled and leonine. Without warning he reached up and took her hand, gently tugging her toward the bench. “Sit, Precious…before you fall down,” he ordered her, smiling warmly as she obeyed without protest for once, her shoulders covered in goosebumps. “Are you cold?”

Sarah shook her head, her answer belied by the shivering of her shoulders. Snapping his fingers, Jareth nodded as his feathered cloak appeared upon her, the warmth quickly sinking into her chilled skin. “Thanks,” she mumbled, trying not to touch him as they sat side by side on the bench.

“Mother didn’t mention that mark, Sarah. Have you been hiding things?” Jareth asked, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her, his eyes moving from the pink stain upon her cheeks to the mark she bore on her breast – a mark he did not put there, but one he knew on instinct was his.

Shaking her head once more, Sarah sighed, “No, she knows about it. She said it was a bond mark and it would fade when the bond had broken fully.”

“I see, so it is Mother who is holding out on me. I must have stern words with that woman,” Jareth chuckled. “So tell me, Precious, does it have that reaction when _you_ touch it?” Seeing Sarah’s blush deepen to crimson, Jareth’s voice dropped to a sultry purr. “So it _does_ have such a pleasurable reaction, and I am guessing that you rather enjoy that little ‘benefit’ of being bonded to me.”

Feeling her face burn as hotly as the liquid pool deep within her core, Sarah dropped her head, unable to look him in the eye any longer.

“Remember, Sarah… for the Fae pleasure is a good thing,” Jareth said gently. ”There is no need to be sheepish or ashamed about using something that gives you pleasure, to your own advantage. I’m quite glad that you found something to bring you pleasure.”  Jareth watched her thoughtfully as she resolutely refused to look at him, then smiled. “I’d like to try something, if you would permit me to touch you once more… a little ‘experiment’ you might say.”

Nibbling once more on her lip, Sarah hesitated a moment, before nodding.  “Um…okay.”

Jareth slowly peeled his glove off, then gently reached over and moved the silken flower petal away from the mark, his eyes locked on her face as she glanced up at him. Pausing, he waited for her to give a silent nod before lightly stroke his bare fingertip around the mark then over it. At the first touch of his skin to the mark, Sarah shuddered violently, her eyes falling shut as she moaned, a whirlwind of pleasure and desire roaring through the familial link as the mate bond engulfed them both in heat from the inside out. Surprised, Jareth pulled his hand back, while Sarah collapsed against the stones behind her, panting, her own hand covering the mark protectively, the heat from the mate bond slowly dissipating.

“Fuck!” she panted, her green eyes wide in shock. “It’s never felt like that when I’ve touched it!”

“As Alice once said… curioser and curioser,” Jareth muttered, still watching the girl as she tried not to squirm on the bench, the scent of desire hanging heavily in the air around them, until Jareth couldn’t be sure whether it all belonged to Sarah, or if he was contributing to it as well.  Pulling his glove back on, Jareth stood up, moving as far away from Sarah as he could get within the confines of the now closed off dead-end within the maze

Sitting up once more, Sarah tugged at the top of her dress, adjusting the silk flowers to cover the mark once more, before she stopped and looked at him. “Jareth…what does it mean? I thought the bond was supposed to fail but this… Well, it certainly doesn’t feel like it has failed or is going away.”

“Indeed it doesn’t,” he murmured, his fingertip still tingling from the feel of the mark on her skin. “And, I’m afraid I don’t know what it means, Precious. But I don’t want you to mention this to anyone…even my Mother and Maeve. I want to research this a bit, without their meddling.”

At the mention of their meddling Sarah wrinkled her nose and nodded. “Agreed. I don’t particularly want your mum to follow through on her threat to confine me to her rooms at her castle, just when life has started to get back to what passes for normal around here.”

Jareth lightly tapped the stones behind him, stepping back as a stone archway leading out of the maze appeared. “Now then, I think we had best rejoin the party before tongues begin wagging about the impropriety of us being alone in a darkened Labyrinth together,” Jareth said, smiling warmly and holding his arm out to Sarah, who took it with a giggle.

“Well, it isn’t the first time we’ve been in a darkened Labyrinth together, and somehow I doubt it will be the last time,” she quipped, walking at his side toward the manor, while Jareth’s mind whirled with all of the dark spots in the Labyrinth he’d willing take her to… and in.

 


	22. Halloween Ball (Part II)

**Samhain**

Unseen by mortal eyes, a cloaked figure stepped from the woods bordering the manor, looking for all the world like a moving shadow as they swiftly moved across the lawn toward the Labyrinth. Pausing near an etched plinth by the southern entrance to the maze, the figure tugged the deep hood back, Raven peered out over the lawn, watching the teens milling about, with a wicked smirk curling the corner of his lips. He’d seen her enter the maze earlier, it was only a matter of time before she exited and he could strike. A minute later he saw her leaving the maze on the Goblin King’s arm, a low growl rumbling around him.

“Garen borjan,” he hissed, tugging the hood back up over his face, his hand fisting at his side as he watched the two of them walking back into the house.

“Bitch,” muttered a female voice behind him, accompanied by the sound of footsteps crunching into the crushed shells of the path.

Whipping around, Rayven’s smile grew at the sight of the girl in the short skirt stomping out of the hedge maze. He recognized this girl as one of Sarah’s classmates. _‘She may not be Jareth’s little peach, but she’ll be just as sweet – and as useful,’_ he mused to himself, stalking quietly toward her. “Good evening, little one. I believe you were looking for someone…me,” he purred. Turning toward him, the girl’s brown eyes widened slightly, a vacant look settling within them as he backed her up against the plinth.

“Who…are…you” she mumbled, before her lips fell silent, her hands twisting into her short skirt.

“Me? I’m your worst nightmare,” he chuckled. Twisting his hand, a swirling red mist appeared, hovering in front of her face. “Breathe deep, darling. You’re mine now.” Obediently the girl breathed deep, sucking the red mist into her lungs. With each additional breath, the light faded in her eyes, until they were clouded over. “Ahh…good girl. You’ll do just fine I think. You will hear my voice within you and you will obey my every command. I want the girl called Sarah…and you will bring her to me.”

Hearing laughter and running footsteps nearing his hiding place, Rayvn growled, the air around him flickering red as he grabbed the girl’s arm roughly and tugged her through the entrance to the maze. The moment he slipped past the arching entrance, he felt the press of magic weigh down upon him. All around him an ethereal hum echoed through the maze.

“Damn you, Jareth,” he grunted, fighting against the weight of the magic as it attempted to hold him fast. “Go, girl. Listen…for my…commands….and…obey,” he ordered, releasing the girl. She stood passively next to him, her eyes vacant. Hissing at the pressure of the magic holding him, Rayvn snapped his fingers and vanished from sight.

* * *

Thundering down the main stairs of the house, Oberon met Jareth in the foyer, the air around the two royals shimmering as their Fae selves and human glamours shifted. A moment later Puck appeared at Oberon’s side, while Louis seemed to appear from nowhere next to Jareth. “My goblins pinned the party-crashers down in the eastern woods and I have ‘eliminated’ all photographs and transported them back to London,” Jareth growled to his father.

Oberon nodded. “Damn photographers. It happens every couple of years, Jareth. At least we caught them before they could transfer the photos to their employers.”

Before Jareth could reply, the walls of the manor trembled in a manner only felt by those of Underground blood. “Unseelie magic… in the Labyrinth!” Jareth hissed, his eyes narrowing as he looked at his father. “Rayven!” Without warning, he disappeared from the foyer, reappearing an instant later at the main entrance of the Labyrinth. Wasting no time, Jareth rushed through the entrance, his gloved hand grazed the leaves of the maze walls, as he felt his way toward the intruder. Turning a corner, he stalked swiftly through a stone garden, where several young people were currently caught in various states of intimacy.

“Hey man? Where’s the fire?” laughed a young man, his arms around girl dressed like an angel, her halo askew on her head.

“Clear the maze and go inside,” Jareth ordered, the tone of his voice making the walls of the Labyrinth vibrate. The teens in the garden shivered, then got up and virtually ran from the area, as the angry Goblin King continued through the maze.

Turning around several more twists of the maze, Jareth frowned seeing Angel bouncing toward him, grinning.

“Hey Gareth…have you seen Sarah? I was racing her and Angus to the center and I got lost.” Seeing the dark look on his face, she froze, her face falling. “Is…is everything okay?”

 “Sarah has gone to her room,” he replied, then frowned and touched the stone wall, as the alarm suddenly stopped. Sighing he returned his attention to the young woman before him, his eyes narrowing at the way the moonlight glinted off the metal studs that decorated the leather collar around her neck. “Angel…where is the necklace I gave you?”

“What? Oh that? I still have it, don’t worry. But it didn’t fit under my collar, so it’s on Sarah’s dresser.”

Jareth cursed inwardly _– ‘Bogdamnit! First photographers and now Angel is out here unprotected with Rayven lurking about!’_ His cloak snapped sharply as he turned on his heel, one hand at the middle of Angel’s back, the other falling to his hip, and the crystalline blade sheathed there. With swift steps he guided her forcefully out of the Labyrinth. “You’d best get inside, Angel. An intruder has been seen lurking about the gardens, so I’m closing them to guests.”

“Oh dear…is Sarah okay?” she asked, speeding up when they reached the crushed shell of the path.

“She is fine,” he muttered darkly, his eyes shifting gold as his predatory self emerged, scanning the lawn for any sign of the rogue Unseelie. _‘For the moment at least,”_ he added to himself.

* * *

 

 _Everything’s dancing…._ Sarah’s thoughts scattered like leaves upon the wind as dancers swirled around her in a blur of bright colors and fanciful costumes. Music floated through the air, seeming to be carried aloft by the shimmering crystals that bobbed all around the ballroom.

Yet Sarah cared nothing for the dancers, the music or the opulent ballroom through which she swirled her attention was for one person and one person alone.

Jareth.

From the moment she took his hand and let him lead her onto the dance floor, his eyes hadn’t wavered from her face.  His gaze was penetrating, as if he were able to see into the deepest recesses of her mind to seek out her inner most desire. The intensity exhilarated her, with the almost weighted pressure of it, sending her blood roaring through her body and making cheeks burn warmly with each thudding beat of her heart. At first she was aware of the envious looks of others, spiningn through the crowd in Jareth’s arms, then as the music began to swell around them, the others seemed to fade into a colorful blur of masks and costumes. A clock began to chime the hour. Swirling past the ornate clock, Sarah frowned slightly, each sonorous gong of the clock teasing at her consciousness.

“Thirteen o’clock? But…how?”

The crystalline blue of his eyes glittered as he leaned in, velvet lips brushing ever so lightly against the shell of her ear. “I move the stars for no one… except you.”

Peering over his shoulder, Sarah was once more caught up in the dance. The gloved hand that held hers was gentle, but firm, guiding her in the steps of a dance she felt sure she should remember, but didn’t. Not that it mattered.

“Relax, Precious…. Follow my lead and let me guide you,” he murmured, his voice silken against her ear. “In all things, I will guide you. Just fear me…love me…do as I say….”

“And you will be my slave?”

“In a manner of speaking.” His pale eyes darkened, as his lips curled into a knowing smirk. “How many girls can say they have a king willing to fulfill their every wish?”

“And what do I have to give in return?”

“I ask for so little, Precious,” he purred, his head dipping lower. The feel of his lips against her jaw, travelling ever so slowly toward her lips, made Sarah tremble in his arms. “Your obedience and your love. That is all…and I will give you… _everything_. _”_

Swirling around the room, twisting and twirling between the other dancers, Sarah felt herself gliding effortlessly through the dance. As last remnants of the gong tolling the hour faded from the room, she caught sight of the large clock hanging upon the shimmering wall.  Lost in the feeling of Jareths’ arms around her, she briefly remembered rushing the crystalline wall of a similar ballroom, the sound of shattering glass echoing shrilly through the memory.

This time there was no glass. No harsh crashing as it shattered and her dream of dancing in the Goblin King’s arms shattered with it. This time, there was just the feel of his hands on her body and the warmth of his breath on her cheek, his velvet lips ghosting gently along her jaw. Softly sung words teased her ear as he spun her beneath the crystal chandelier above them, flickering candles casting an ethereal glow over the costumed revelers around them. Gradually his words became a discordant hum, as all around them the ballroom began to fade, color and light seeming to roll down the walls like a watercolor masterpiece caught in the rain, a blur of color smearing sadly across canvas.

“No! Wait… not like this…no!!! Jareth wait!”

Jerking forward to grasp uselessly at the leather of Jareth’s glove, Sarah found herself sitting bolt upright in bed. With her heart still hammering, she rubbed her eyes and looked around. Under the heavy curtains of her window she saw the telltale glow of morning sunlight. Even with the knowledge that she was in her own bed, the discordant humming still buzzed in her ears. Carefully Sarah stepped over Angel where she lay sprawled face down on the pallet bed of cushions, one arm over her head and her face obscured by the threadbare stuffed puppy she slept with every night. Tiptoeing past Angel, Sarah slipped into her parlor to find that the discordant humming hadn’t been Jareth at all, but Mrs. Brown cleaning up the parlor, the usually neat and tidy room strewn with bits of costumes, make-up and hair styling tools from the night before.

“Good morning dear. Sorry if I woke you, I was trying to be quiet,” the old housekeeper said, giving Sarah a warm smile. “Mr. Rex told me to let you and Angel sleep in since you were at the ball until the wee hours. Heaven knows you’re old enough to stay at a ball that late.” Mrs. Brown chuckled and bustled about, gathering up clothes.

Blushing slightly, Sarah played over her last moments at the Halloween Ball – moments which were far different from her dream. When they returned to the house, he had danced her through the grand ballroom, ignoring offers from other dancers. She vividly remembered the cold looks that some of them gave her, their eyes narrowing disdainfully upon her when the powerful Gareth Rex turned them down in favor of the young woman in already in his arms. These were powerful women in their own right, either by their business prowess or fortunes – they were not used to being turned down, yet that is exactly what he did. For nearly an hour she did not leave his arms, spinning lazily through the ballroom, as he smiled at her or sang along with the songs played by the band. It was a dizzying memory of light, sound and mesmerizing eyes. Each time he sang, the mark upon her breast would pulse gently with the rhythm of his words, sending teasing tremors of magic along her flesh.

It was only when the band began their last song that Jareth waltzed her out onto the stone patio outside the open ballroom doors. They were not alone on the patio, as other couples were hidden away in the various ‘nooks’ upon that patio, enjoying stolen moments under the moonlight and away from the crowd in the ballroom. Taking her hand, Jareth had pulled her into a nook in the far corner, half-hidden by a fall of ivy that draped along the entry, giving it the feeling of a fairy bower. Beneath the twinkling fairy lights of the nook, Jareth conjured a single crystal glass, sparkling bubbles floating to the surface of the shimmering pink liquid, only to pop upon the surface. Sarah’s stomach fluttered and flipped as he smiled at her, his gaze holding her transfixed with her back against the stones of the wall.  “It is tradition in my people, to honour a young woman’s first ball with a toast,” he murmured, softly. “As it would seem out of place amongst the mortal guests, I thought it appropriate to bend to tradition in… private, as it were.”

“But this isn’t my first ball…or have you forgotten?”

Jareth gave a low chuckle, his pale eyes glinting beneath the twinkling lights of the arbor nook. “Hardly, Sarah. Do you really think I would have forgotten that night, nor the bond it resulted in – even if _you_ do wish the bond to fade.” Sarah felt her stomach drop at his words, as her inner self screamed out for her to tell him the truth, while her fear held her silent. A momentary chill settled between them, one which was not caused by the crisp autumn air. Smiling at her once more, Jareth’s gloved fingers gently caressed her jaw, setting her stomach to flutter once more. “I could never forget that night, Precious. However you were still a child. Now, you are an adult.” Raising the glass toward the full moon hanging heavily overhead, Jareth’s eyes never left hers. “Efallai y byddwch yn byw hir a chariad yn dda ar eich dyddiau... May your days be long and filled with love.” 

As he held the crystal glass to her lips, Sarah needed no prompting to accept the fizzing bubbles. With the tickling sensation of the champagne still buzzing against her tongue, her heart thudded wildly in her chest, as he leaned in closer to her, his gloved fingers tilting her chin up toward his advancing lips.

However instead of his lips against hers in the kiss she had been dreaming of for weeks, Sarah was blinded by a sudden barrage of camera flashes. Yelping, she covered her eyes, bright bursts of stark white light searing her brain from behind her clenched eye lids. Around her she heard shouting and an angry growl from Jareth that made her stomach clench from the ferocity, while her core trickled with want at the pure ‘authority’ of it. Cracking her eyes, she saw very little except the inside of Jareth’s midnight cloak, as he pushed her further into the nook, blocking her from view with the heavy leather. For a brief instant, Sarah saw the leather of his jacket flicker, taking on the look of the Goblin Regalia he wore when she first met him. Puzzling at what would cause the Goblin King to lose control in that way, Sarah didn’t have time to find out what set him off, as she was bodily pulled through an opening in the back of the nook and bustled away to her room by Titania, while Oberon growled ominiously from behind them, murmuring curses in a language she didn’t recognize. Shaking the memory from her mind, Sarah blinked realizing that Mrs. Brown was still talking to her.

“Um… what?”

“Oh… I was just saying that Mr. Rex is furious that parapazzi got onto the property last night. As soon as he had you safely inside the manor he sent word to close down the party and had his own guards searching the property until dawn. The local police were called, but it was the oddest thing, by the time they arrived the parapazzi were gone, although Mr. Rex senior maintained that they were being punished for their trespassing. Such a pity though, it was one of the best Halloween balls we’ve had in years. Tis a shame it ended on such a sour note,” she sighed. Seeing the vacant look on Sarah’s face, Mrs. Brown patted the girl’s hand. “Don’t you worry dear, young Mr. Rex seemed sure that they did not get any good shots of the two of you – at least none that could be construed as compromising.”

Thinking of how close Jareth had been to kissing her when the flash bulbs went off, Sarah wasn’t so sure.

“Though why he had you outside in a lover’s nook, I don’t know. Lapse of judgement that one,” the old woman muttered, scooping make-up from the top of the desk into a makeup bag. “But that’s not for me to say, I suppose. I’m sure he had his reasons, but how’s that going to look when word gets around. And mark my words, tongues will wag.” Still bustling about the room picking up make-up bits and costume parts, Mrs. Brown smiled at her. “Why don’t you go back and sleep some more, dear. You look done in after last night and it’s only just gone 7. Mr. and Mrs. Rex senior and Mr. Rex Jr. are busy packing anyway.”

Sarah nodded. “Oh, well if we are travelling, I guess I’d better go get Toby up so we can pack too.”

Stopping, with costumes and clothing spilling over her arms, Mrs. Brown gave Sarah an odd look and shook her head. “No dear. Apparently they are going to some Halloween festival out of the country. You and Toby are to stay here at home. In fact with the photographers crashing the party last night, Mr. Rex doesn’t even want you leaving the manor except for school, and Louis is to escort you both to and from campus. In fact, Louis and Mr. Drake will take Toby to the children’s trick-or-treating fete` in town. Mr. Rex doesn’t want the dear boy to miss out of his fun, but he wants him protected around the clock.”

“What?!” Sarah demanded, not even bothering to wait for an answer as she rushed to the door and threw it open, marching down the hall toward the ‘family’ wing of the manor.

She didn’t know what she planned to say, she only knew one thing – it wasn’t fair! Reaching the end of the hall where his bedroom was, Sarah didn’t even have to open the door, as she neared it, the door flung itself open with a crash. Jareth was lounging on the sofa with a cup of coffee in his hands, an open suitcase on the sofa across from him, half-filled with clothing and toiletries.

“Why?!”

“Good morning to you too, Sarah,” Jareth replied, his tone cool as he surveyed the clearly angry brunette storming into his private chambers. “While I don’t object to you being in my chambers on principle, it would be far more polite if you had an invitation, or at the very least knocked.” He didn’t need the familial link to know she was angry, given the way her green eyes snapped furiously at him. Biting back a smile, he noted the fact that in her anger, she had rushed from her room in her pajamas – or what passed for them. The white material the shirt she had taken from his room many weeks prior, skimmed over her female form, gently gliding over the curves of her breasts obscuring them in one way, while highlighting them in others. He had idly considered what she might look like wearing his shirt and little else, he found the shirt paired with a pair of faded plaid flannel shorts to be more alluring than such a utilitarian combination should be. Shaking his head to rid himself of the thought, he momentarily marveled at the possessive warm thrummed inside him at the sight of her wearing his shirt.

Stomping across the room Sarah stopped in front of the sofa, glaring at him with her hands fisted on her hips.

“It’s not fair, Jareth!”

Sipping his coffee, Jareth rolled his eyes, then set his cup and saucer on the end table and pursed his lips as he looked at her. “Ahh…that old tune again, Precious? Isn’t about time you learned a new one?” Jareth sat back upon the sofa, propping his chin on a leather clad hand. “Do tell, just what isn’t fair in your eyes this time, hmm?”

The irritated stomp of Sarah’s foot amused him, yet he fought down the urge to laugh. The feeling of her anger rushed through him via the link, tinged with despondence and a sadness that puzzled him.

“You’re leaving,” she said. Jareth’s confusion rose at her terse words, delivered amidst a sudden rise in despondence flowing through the link. Around her the air was thick with the scent of brimstone from her anger, but the smell of winter rain swirled around her as well, shifting and moving with her tumultuous emotions.

“Only for a few days, Sarah,” he replied, still wondering at the depth of emotion caused by their impending absence. Giving a shrug, he continued matter-of-factly, “It is Samhain in the Underground, as the royal family, my parents and I must attend. You should know that from your lessons.”

Her green eyes narrowed, a heated burst of anger roaring through the link. “So take us with you.”

“No.”

“Damnit Jareth,” she snapped, stomping her foot again. “Why not? We’re family…you’re always going on about it. Or is that that just another lie? You pay lip service to it, but don’t fucking care how it affects us?”

In an instant Jareth was on his feet, the glamour of his human form fading away until the Goblin King was towering over her, his casual human clothing vanishing to be replaced by tight leather pants, a flowing shirt and a black jerkin laced tight across his chest. His eyebrows arched angrily as his pale eyes darkened. “Watch your tone, Sarah! Don’t forget to whom you are speaking,” he warned, his words low and cold. “I’ll give your inappropriate language and tone a pass, but keep it up and my generosity will cease.”

Reaching out, Sarah’s hands landed against his chest, shoving him back sharply. “Fuck you, Jareth! You talk a big game about us all being family now, then you go and try to sneak out without so much as a goodbye.”

With a wave of his hand, the bedroom door slammed shut with such force that the walls shook, setting the paintings hanging upon them askew. Gulping, Sarah realized she had pushed Jareth too far, even as he stalked forward. “I… well…I mean…” she back-pedaled, his presence in front of her forcing her back until her legs hit a chair, dropping her into it. Jareth leaned forward, his gloved hands gripping the sides of the chair, effectively pinning her into it. Looking up at him, she pressed back into the chair, as if she could escape the furious countenance of the Goblin King.

“Do, enlighten me, _Precious_ about what you meant by not only shouting profanity at me, but making false accusations about my cares and motivations? The person who kept you with your brother when the mortal world would have happily torn the remnants of your little family asunder?”

“I…um…I….was angry,” she muttered, her green eyes dropping from his steely blue-grey, to the golden sigil dangling from the golden cord around his neck.

A sharp, disdainful laugh brushed against her forehead, making her shrink back further against the cushion of the chair. “Yes, I had rather noticed that, Sarah.  What you have not yet explained is _why_?” he hissed, pushing her chin upward with leather-gloved fingers and forcing her to look him in the eye. “Last chance to avoid punishment, my girl.” Releasing the arm of the chair, Jareth stepped back and surveyed her, his arms folded across the leather of his waistcoat. “Why are you so angry about us going away? It isn’t the first time since you and Toby arrived that I have taken leave of the manor. Is it?” he asked, the cold tone of his words easing, while the stern demeanor remained. Tilting his head, he watched as her head dropped once more, her eyes fixing upon her own hands, fidgeting restlessly in her lap.

“No…it isn’t but, Toby is finally settled and believes he has a family again, here…with me…and your parents and…well…you too. I might have expected you’d sneak out without saying good bye to me, but that will devastate Toby.”

Jareth could feel the truth of her words, but the rolling wave of despondence and sadness that accompanied them suggested they weren’t the complete truth. _‘Could she actually be upset that I am going?’_ he mused inwardly, his eyes narrowing as he studied her. Seeing her sink further into the chair, he sighed at the knowledge that she was waiting further admonishment. As much as he was within his right to punish her for her angry outburst, he found to his surprise that in this instance, he had no desire to do so. Sitting down in the chair next to her, he reached over and took one of her restless hands in his, squeezing it gently.

“Sarah, look at me.”

Shaking her head, Sarah tried to pull her hand from his, even as her heart raced at the gentle but firm touch. Jareth’s hand tightened ever so slightly around hers, holding it fast until she stopped attempting to free it.

“No, Sarah. Look at me. Please.” The slow wave of desolace grew, as she sniffed, raising her eyes to his. “To begin with, you are right, I did not have plans to say goodbye to you, as I did not realize that doing so would affect you so.”

“Not me…Toby,” she muttered, her words accompanied by a quick burst of embarrassment, tinged with deceit.

The acrid scent of deceit that clung to her words, made his heart swell within him. He vividly remembered the way she had leant in toward his lips the night before and had hoped it was intentional. The fact that she was lying about whether she was upset gave him further hope. Smiling quietly, he nodded, “And Toby is young, I would not dream of leaving the manor without seeing him, Sarah. Despite what you may think, _both_ of you are important to me, as well as to my parents.”

“So why are you leaving us behind?”

Sighing, he gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, her despondence finally becoming clear. ‘ _Bogdamnit! She’d been abandoned by all she loved and here we are doing the same,’_ he growled to himself, cursing himself for being unfeeling, and cursing his rank for requiring him to leave her once more.

“It is not that I particularly _want_ to leave you behind, Precious. For us, the Samhain festival is two-fold. Firstly, it is a time for families to honour those who have passed the veil. And while you are part of our family now, this is not the time to introduce you to those who have passed.”

Sarah frowned, her green eyes blinking in confusion. “Introduce? But….”

Chuckling, Jareth smiled warmly at her. “When will you learn not to take things of my world for granted, Sarah? The veil is thin upon Samhain, so those who have passed return in their shade form to commune with those who still live. It is essentially a family reunion. And while I would dearly love to introduce you to my family, it is the second part of the Samhain festival that makes that impossible.”

“It’s one of those sexually charged festivals, isn’t it?” she muttered, finally pulling her hand from his.

Jareth sighed, seeing and feeling the wall going up between them once more. The air around Sarah shifted, smelling of bitter ash and mouldy leaves – desolace and fear. While her emotions gave him hope, they made what he must tell her far more difficult. “Yes, Precious…it is. While Samhain is a celebration of those who have passed on, it is also a celebration of life. Thus, the festival part is very hedonistic. That is not something I am ready to expose you to at this time.” His heart clenched at the way Sarah dropped her head once more.

_“I’m not good enough for him.”_

Blinking, Jareth felt his breath nearly choke him at her words – words which were not spoken, yet he heard them as clearly as if he had. Reaching toward his wrist, he rubbed lightly at the mark he knew was hidden beneath the leather of his glove, and marveled as she unconsciously reached up and caressed the mark upon her own breast through the thin material of his shirt. As she touched the mark, a light tremor of warmth shivered through the familial link, while also pulsing through his own mark. _‘It seems the bond is alive and still growing,’_ he mused, watching her tensely for any sign that she heard his thoughts. When Sarah didn’t respond in anyway, he relaxed once more. “Sarah, I would be honoured to have you accompany me to the festivals, however while our bond would protect you somewhat, I don’t want to risk someone taking advantage of your status as a changeling and hurting you. The sexual mores of my people are quite different and you don’t know the ‘rules’ yet. I don’t want to run the risk that someone might initiate an action that you don’t want, but by your naivety you give them permission. That would be….”

“A problem,” she murmured for him.

Nodding Jareth sighed. “That is putting it mildly, pet. It could be disastrous. Should anyone hurt you like that, you have no idea what I would do, much less what Father and Mother would do. That is why I must leave you here – for now. When I return we will increase your lessons to be sure that you are adequately prepared for the Yule Ball. At that time you will be presented to the court and anyone that wishes to offer a courting suit may do so. As part of that festival week, there will be multiple balls and parties. By presenting you to the court, you will be declared an adult in our world and there will be some who wish to ‘sample’ you before offering suit. You will need to know what to look out for and how to decline in such a way that there is no mistake regarding what you want and what you do not.”

Sarah pursed her lips in such a way that Jareth could almost hear her grumpy growl, although she did not give it voice. “Couldn’t you just…I dunno… stay with me all the time or I could stay with your parents?”

Grimacing slightly, Jareth shook his head. He hadn’t wanted to explain the intricacies of the hedonistic festivals to the girl yet, at least not when she was already fighting feelings of abandonment. “I’m afraid that would be impossible, Sarah. My parents as the High King and Queen have duties they must fulfill during the Samhain festival, as do I.”

“Oh… so you’ll be ‘entertaining’ women,” Sarah murmured, her voice dropping to a whisper, her posture closing off as she drew back into the corner of the chair.

Jareth reached over and gently curled his fingers under her chin, turning her head to look at him once more. When her eyes reluctantly met his, his hand dropped until his fingers lightly brushed the mark on her breast, lightly caressing it through the shirt. The warmth that thrummed through the family link and through his own mark made him smile. “Feel that, Sarah?”

Blushing hotly, Sarah nodded, her hand coming up and covering his upon her chest, both stopping the gentle caress, and keeping his hand there, her eyes shining brightly.

“That feeling is our bond, Precious. Because of it, were I to touch another woman, I would end up either violently ill or irrationally angry. My role in this festival is therefore one of a ‘monitor’, to ensure the safety of others. But because of that, I will not be able to adequately look after you at all times. Therefore it is best if you remain here, safe in the Above.”

“Oh.”

The emotions roiling through the link faded somewhat, until only one remained -- sadness. “After what happened with the photographers last night, I want you protected, Sarah,” he said gently. “You are not to leave the manor unless Louis and Mr. Drake are with you. But you are welcome to have Angel spend the rest of the weekend with you. Louis will drop the two of you back to campus Monday morning in time for breakfast.” Seeing the resignation as she dropped her gaze, Jareth sighed and took her hand in his. “I appreciate that you would rather go with us, and if it were safe to take you, I would like nothing more than to have you with me for the festival, so I could introduce you to the people I care about. However, that would be dangerous.”

Sarah merely nodded and rose from the chair, pulling her hand from his and running it through her hair, before she stopped and turned, her eyes on the plush carpet under her feet. “Look..I’m sorry for busting in here like I did…I just….”

In one sleek movement, Jareth rose and crossed the room to her, his movements graceful and controlled. Not questioning his actions, he gently nudged her chin upward, then leaned in, his lips brushing her forehead. “I understand now, Sarah. I am sorry you felt you were being abandoned. You most assuredly are not.” A sudden burst of warmth rushed through the link and throbbed under the mark on his wrist. Hearing the sharp intake of breath from Sarah, he stepped back and smiled. “I promise we won’t leave until after breakfast, so that you and Toby get a bit more time. Now go, get a bit more rest, Sarah.”

Nodding, Sarah turned and headed toward the door. Her heart thudded loudly in her ears, still in chock by the feel of his lips against her forehead. Lost in the memory, she was surprised when he spoke.

“Oh and Sarah… the next time you barge into my chambers in your pajamas, bring your purple wig.” The sound of his laughter followed her down the hall as she fled, her cheeks burning hotly from the images his words evoked in her mind.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	23. Samhain

**Fifty Shades of Fae**

**Ch. 23: Samhain**

Leaning back on the chaise lounge, Jareth draped one arm over the back as he shifted, the sheer black netted shirt falling open to the waist of his tight leather trousers, revealing the golden sigil glittering faintly upon the burnished gloss of his oiled chest giving him a faintly golden glow. He could feel the inherent heat of this place thrumming through his own blood, causing it to burn in a way that set the aphrodisiac spices imbued in the oil to seep from his very pores. Stretching, Jareth let his eyes lazily wander over the secluded forest glen. All around the trees sparkled with twinkling lights that flickered and glowed, adding to the ethereal feel of the sacred place. Since the time of his ancestors, the Samhain ancestral rites were held upon the Lothlorian Tor, while the more hedonistic, fire rites, took place here – in Grenstilnoch Glen. Even now, before the start of the rites, he could almost hear the moans and groans of completion whispering from the leaves that surrounded this place, as if echoes of rites past.

Silently an elven maid glided up to him, her silvery hair flowing freely down the back of her see-through green silk shift. Saying nothing, she knelt gracefully near the lounge, her head bowed as she held a crystal goblet upward for him. Without looking at her, Jareth accepted the glass, idly sipping the apple wine within.

"Your Majesty, may I be of any further service," the woman purred, breathing deep of the oiled spices that glistened upon his body.

Sighing, Jareth shook his head, waving her away. "Go, Carina. Find your pleasures of the flesh elsewhere."

The woman pouted slightly, but nodded. "As you order, Sire," she murmured, then rose, her footfalls silent as she left the dais.

"Don't judge her too harshly, darling. Between the special oils and the incense being burned here, combined with the natural magic of the fire rite, she can't help the fact that she seeks pleasure," murmured a quietly chiming voice.

Glancing up, Jareth smiled and nodded, seeing his parents stepping upon the dais, their diaphanous robes of silver and gold rustling softly over their bodies. "I do understand that Mother. I apologize, I just am…out of sorts being amongst the revelers this night. I feel…."

"Like something is missing?"

With a sigh, Jareth nodded. "Exactly."

Moving further upon the raised platform, his mother dropped gracefully upon her throne, the glittering silver woven crown wreathing her brow, shimmering with blue gems to match her silver robe, while Jareth's father clapped him firmly upon the shoulder. "I would suggest you block the familial link and your bond link, my boy," his father chuckled. "Even if you are not participating in the rites fully, they are likely to affect you… personal needs and emotions, and you wouldn't want Sarah to inadvertently feel your emotions."

Frowning, Jareth nodded. "I have started to hear her thoughts… it's only happened once, but you are right. It wouldn't do for her to have her first experience of the intense emotion that comes with the rites, second hand through me," he sighed, inwardly struggling with a desire to have her with him for the rite.

"That and you wouldn't want her to get the wrong idea and think you are 'participating' would you?" his Mother added, taking her husband's hand as he joined her on the double-throne.

"It's not like that," Jareth muttered, tugging his glove cuff higher over the mark on his inner wrist. "She…just…"

"Don't bother lying, Jareth darling," his mother laughed, patting his arm gently, her violet eyes sparkling merrily. "We saw you dancing with her before the incident with the photographers and the other…unpleasantness. While the mortals may not have noticed the magic the two of you were weaving around each other as you danced, your Father and I did."

"We what?"

Oberon chuckled and nodded, "You may not have mated the girl to set the bond, but it is far stronger than any of us guessed. Your magic was twining itself around her, teasing her magic into joining yours. It was lovely to see, actually."

Jareth's lips pursed in a frown, shaking his head. He vividly remembered dancing with Sarah during the ball, but remembered very little other than the gentle smile on her face as she gazed up at him. "I can't believe I didn't feel it."

"Not surprising really, darling. When people are in denial of the love they feel, they seldom notice the effects of it," Titania said, glancing adoringly at her husband.

"Love… I don't…Sarah doesn't…."

Oberon's booming laugh rippled over the dais at his son's protestation. "You can tell yourself that all you want, my boy… but we know what we saw and you have our blessing. Just do us all a favor and follow the rules this time so the bond is set fully and there can be no more problems with it."

"Believe me, Father, if Sarah _were_ to agree to accept the bond, I will ensure all rules are followed so there is no mistake or chance of a challenge."

"Good lad," Oberon replied, rising from the twin throne with his wife upon his arm. Looking out over the crowd of Fae and Underground citizens filling the glen, Oberon smiled broadly. The laughter and murmuring voices fell silent as the crow gazed up at the High King, their brightly colored robes shimmering in the light, giving tantalizing glimpses of the bare flesh beneath the sheer materials. Oberon clapped his hands twice, the sound booming through the glen and echoing against the trees with a sonorous thundering sound. His rich baritone filled the glen as he spoke, the words ringing throughout the trees. "Pan fydd y llen rhwng y byd teneuo'r, rhaid i'r cysylltiad rhwng cig a gwaed yn cael eu hadnewyddu. Gadewch i'r ddefod hynafol adnewyddu'r tir a'r cnawd yn un."

Taking Titania's hand, the High King kissed it, then led her down the steps of the dais, to the golden pit in the middle of the wooded glen. A glittering spark drifted down from the center of the glen, as the crowd watched. When it reached the stacked wood in the middle of the glen, a bright burst of light engulfed the wood, setting it alight with leaping golden-orange flames. Watching the fire climb higher into the evening sky within the glen, Jareth turned his attention away from his parents as his father reached up and pushed the silvery robe covering his mother felt to the ground. Glancing away from the center of the glen, he sighed deeply, watching brightly colored robes being shed, revealing oiled bodies shimmering with gold dust and spices. In pairs and small groups, the crowd fell to the grass, the fire rite of the flesh beginning.

Within moments the glen was filled with soft moans, longing groans and the occasional whimper of need. Looking up again, Jareth was relieved to find that his parents were no longer visible in the throng of moving, sliding and grinding bodies. _'The celebrants of the fire rite were taking full advantage of the magic of the night,'_ he mused to himself. Sipping his wine, Jareth turned his attention to the stars overhead. "In 12 months time, there will be many new babes at the breast. The wheel of life turns once more."

A petulant frown pinched his face as he fought to ignore memories of his last shared dream with Sarah. But with the sounds of love drifting upward from the floor of the glen, it became harder to tear his mind away from the image of Sarah spread upon his bed, begging for his touch. "How you move my world, Precious…." He groaned, adjusting the front of his trousers, as a deep throb of need began insistently within him. "Blast and damn, this is going to be a long night. I hope Sarah is enjoying her evening more than I will. I'd far rather be tucked up at the manor watching movies with her, than fighting my baser instincts as the lone celibate in an orgy of the flesh."

**_~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~_ **

"Nothing about this is a good idea," Sarah muttered, looking around the lounge of the large share-house outside of town. College-age students and a smattering of students from the academy milled, doing something that was apparently 'dancing' but didn't resemble any form of dancing she'd ever seen. From her vantage point mid-way up the stairs leading to the bedrooms on the upper level, Sarah had the uneasy feeling of being on a boat, as she watched the sea of young people bobbing and bouncing to the loud music that made the floor pulse with the heavy bass. At the other side of the room, couples were draped over chairs and sofas, necking and engaging in everything short of full-on sex. _'There's a sort of irony that Jareth is surrounded by a Fae orgy tonight, and here I am surrounded by a mortal one,'_ she mused, wrinkling her nose and groaning as a drunk college guy stumbled on his way down the stairs, bumping into her and spilling most of his cup of beer down her back.

"What the fuck?!" she shrieked, the shrill sound rendered nearly mute by the loud music that rocked the house. Shoving the drunk back, Sarah glared at him, the yeasty smell of beer making her stomach turn, while icy rivulets of beer slid down her back and thighs.

"Hi gorgeous…wanna go up on the roof and look at the birds?" he shouted, trying to be heard over the music. Grinning expectantly at her, his mouth twisted in an inane attempt at a leer, as he took the opportunity to reach under her short plaid skirt and grope her bum.

Slapping his hand away, Angel hissed, "Hand's off, jerk!" Then she stuck her booted foot against his ass and pushed, knocking him the rest of the way down the stairs and into a group of football players arguing about the latest team standings. "Ahh…come on Sarah. Lighten up and relax will you?" Thrusting a plastic cup into Sarah's hand, Angel grinned, her heavily made up eyes sparkling as she looked around. "Okay, so this isn't as nice as one of sexy Rexy's parties, but it's better than staying cooped up at the manor all weekend."

Watching a girl in a 'sexy police woman' outfit giggle and squeal as the footballer's pulled her into their laps to grope her and ply her with drinks, Sarah frowned, wondering yet again how she had let Angel talk her into going out tonight. Sarah wiped uselessly at the wet plaid skirt of the 'goth angel' costume Angel had insisted she wear, shaking her head. "Gareth is going to kill me. I'm as good as dead. I'll be dropped in an oubliette forever. Buh-bye life."

Angel laughed, taking a drink from her cup and nudging Sarah's arm hard enough that the purple liquid inside Sarah's cup sloshed, splashing over the rim and running down between her fingers. "As long as the oubliette has a bed with Sexy Rexy in it, who cares? Now drink up. You want to fit in don't you?"

"Not particularly," Sarah grumbled, sniffing at the fizzy liquid in her cup. "What is this? It doesn't smell like beer."

"That's because it isn't. It's 'Grape Fizz'…whatever that is. The guys make it up for the underage crowd. It's not alcoholic. Drink it."

Not quite convinced, Sarah sniffed the cup again. The smell of grape soda momentarily drowned out the cloying scent of spilled beer and cigarette smoke that hung in the air of the shared house. "If I get drunk… I'm even deader than dead. You promise this is okay?"

Rolling her eyes, Angel wrapped her arm around her best friend and grinned. "Come on, Sarah. Why would I lie to you? I know Rexy will ground you forever if you get caught breaking the rules. That's why we'll stay for two hours or so, then head home before anyone knows we're gone. It's after 1 so the staff are asleep. As long as we're back by 3, we'll be fine. It isn't like Rexy is going to come home early and check your bed. Or have you two finally gotten over your issues with him and allow him to…."

"Just…stop. Don't even finish that thought," Sarah griped, taking a big gulp of the purple drink. The taste of artificial grape assailed her taste-buds, with a faint sting of fizzy soda. "It's not like that and you know it."

"Yeah well, did you ever stop to think that may be the reason you have such issues with him in the first place. Cuz you _waaaaaant_ him?"

"Drop it, Angel. I don't want to talk about him tonight. I just want to go home."

With a grin, Angel downed the rest of her drink. "Fine, finish your drink, we'll have a dance, grab a toasted marshmallow at the bonfire, then I'll get Ryan to drive us back to the edge of town. We can walk back to the manor from there."

"Deal." Peering into the purple depths of her drink, Sarah gritted her teeth, then shut her eyes and threw back her head, downing the rest in two big gulps. The taste of artificial grapes left her feeling momentarily dizzy, as she handed her empty cup to Angel. "Come on then. And I'm holding you to your promise."

"Sure thing, hon," Angel laughed, dropping the empty cups on the stairs and grabbing Sarah's hand. "Let's go."

Following Angel into the throng of people writhing and bobbing on what passed for the dance floor, Sarah felt an unnerving sense of claustrophobia. Bodies pressed against her from every side, as she struggled to keep hold of Angel's hand. At first she tried to relax and bob along to the music like the others, the song itself wasn't bad, but between the movement of the 'dancing', the sticky beer covered floor and the smoke of both cigarettes and pot, Sarah felt her stomach give a violent lurch. Spinning around, she spotted a flash of purple tinted black hair and bodily pushed several dancers away, to latch onto Angel's leather jacket as she danced with a drunk college guy, who was leering down her cleavage.

"Ang…Ang…I'm not feeling so…good." Gripping Angel's jacket as if it would anchor her in the world, Sarah felt the nauseous feeling grow stronger, as the faces of the people around her grew blurry. Swirling bodies moved around her, making her dizzy until she caught sight of a goblin mask with a twisted and hooked nose curving outward over glittering black eyes. Blinking, she rubbed her eyes, as the room around her seemed to spin faster, the axis angled to send her wobbling against someone, who laughed, snaking a thickly muscled arm around her.

"Well what have we here. Let me help…." A hand on her breast made her gasp, memories of green hands clutching her awkwardly and groping her crashing through her mind.

"No…no Helping Hands. I want to go up…not down. Up…"

"Oh, I bet she'll go down easily enough," laughed another voice, the fetid smell of yeast and grain alcohol making Sarah cough as she was forced to her knees, weakly slapping at the hands on her shoulders. Sarah struggled, feeling someone else grab her head. One minute they were there, then in the next the hands were gone and the strange guys were coughing violently and cursing at the mist hanging in the air over her head. Glancing up, she saw Angel glaring at the coughing men, a small pink canister clutched in her raised hand.

"Touch her again and I'll give you another blast! Now back the fuck off!" Reaching down, Angel grabbled Sarah's hand and pulled. "Come on, hon…let's get you out of here. Party's over for you." Choking and wheezing, Sarah felt herself being pulled out of the press of dancers, most of whom had no idea what had just happened. "Wait a sec," Angel ordered her.

Feeling the cool metal of a car behind her, Sarah leaned heavily against it, her forehead pressed against the cool glass as she shut her eyes. "I'm sick," she mumbled, cracking her eyes once more, but unable to focus on anything through the watery blurr. Her knees wobbled when Angel let go of her, her body dropping her to the stone driveway. A burst of pain shot up her legs, as the sharp stones cut into her bare skin. "I wish I'd worn jeans," Sarah muttered absently, mesmerized by the red smears now seeming to melt down her legs. Trailing a finger through the smear, she looked at it, unsure if it belonged to her or not. The metallic grind of a door opening pulled her from her reverie and she looked up, seeing a tall, skinny young man bending over her, while Angel stood aside, holding the car door open. "Do I know you?"

The man just laughed and scooped her up, dumping her unceremoniously into the backseat of the car. "Nope."

As he leaned over her, pulling her to sit up in the car, Sarah gagged upon the sickly sweet smell that seemed to cling to his clothing and hair. Pungent and faintly floral, Sarah shook her head, the movement feeling as if she were moving through treacle. "No… you… we shouldn't…Angel… he's…that's pot…" she managed to mumble, even as Angel leaned over and buckled her into the car. "Angel…no…we can't."

"Shush, Sarah. You're drunk. We'll get you home. Just trust me."

Sarah's eyes seemed to grow heavier, ass the car took off through town. Her head lolled against the cool window, the chill of the smooth surface smoothing the heated flush of her face, making her sigh. Despite the comforting feel of the cool glass, wave after wave of nausea roiled through her, punctuated with fuzzy thoughts that buzzed around in her head like bees that she couldn't catch. Nearing the far edge of town bordering the countryside, Sarah gasped as the car jerked roughly, bouncing her head forcefully against the window hard enough to make her see stars behind her clenched eyes. "Hey!" The loud crunch of metal compacting wrenched through her, combined with a high-pitched scream from Angel – then the world went silent as darkness overtook her.

**_~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~_ **

Blinding flashes bled through Sarah's clenched eyelids, making her whimper in pain and cover her eyes with her hands. As if through a distant fog, she heard slowed voices, speaking. Dimly she noticed two different voices, one crisply accented like Jareth and his parents, the other coarse and rough. Their words drifted in and out of her brain, making her giggle. "You shound sho funny…like a record shlowed waaaaaay downsh," she mumbled, her words slurring together. With her head lolling against the window, now spider-webbed with cracks, Sarah groaned at the sudden burst of pain that shot through her head when she finally tried to open her eyes. Blinking blearily, she watched two shadowy men peering in the windows, their flashlight flickering from the front seat to the back, shining in her eyes and blinding her. "Hey! Ouuuuuch…schtap!"

"Arrest the driver," ordered the man with cultured accent. "I'll be pressing charges against him for destruction of property. He's also under the influence of drugs and alcohol." Still giggling at their slow voices, Sarah watched them come nearer. "Put the brunette in my car. I know her guardian, I'll see that she gets home."

"What about the one other girl?" the other man asked, flashing his light into the front seat, where the purple tips of Angel's wispy hairdo were just visible.

A dark laugh echoed through Sarah's head, making her shiver. "She's of no consequence. She's served her purpose. Take her to the station then call her grandparents. Make sure they know it was the brunette's idea."

"Yes Sir."

There was a grinding crunch of a bent car door being wrenched open next to her head, the sound making her scream in pain. If she had not been belted into the car, Sarah would've fallen out of the car as the door was pulled open. The first man leaned over her, unbuckling her seatbelt, his dark eyes glittering starkly against his pale skin. Deep down, Sarah had the strangest feeling she had met this man before, but before she could place him, he purred, his voice soft and melodic. "Sleep," he purred, lifting her up. Sarah felt the world shift around her, and her vision went black once more.

**_~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~_ **

Pain. In her seventeen years, Sarah had never felt anything quite like this and quite frankly, she never wished to experience it ever again. Moaning, she turned her head, trying to rub her throbbing head – but her hand would not lift. "What the?" she mumbled, trying again in vain to move her arm. Forcing her eyes open despite the pain that seared behind them, lancing through her skull like a super-heated blade, Sarah whimpered. Everything was blurry still, but she could make out a faint, flickering glow. "Candles?" she whispered, her lips and throat feeling as if they had been scrubbed with sand. Trying to move her hand again, she blinked to focus, expecting to see binding to explain her inability to move, but there was nothing there. Nothing – not even the shirt she had been wearing earlier.

Although she was unable to move, she keenly felt the light touch of the air upon her skin, and the telltale tightening of her nipples, puckering into taut buds from the sensation. A soft gasp slipped past her lips as she felt a slight breeze tease across her body, awareness clearing some of the fog that had crept into her brain. _'I'm naked…on a bed… where….am I?'_ she wondered, biting back a whimper at the shadow that moved across her vision.

"Ahh… the little peach awakens," chuckled a dark voice, the crisp accent reminding her of someone, while the tone sent a shiver up Sarah's spine. "Such a naughty girl wandering the countryside without your keeper," he laughed, staying just out of her line of vision as he moved around the room.

She could hear the sound of a flame flickering nearby, and smelled something hot, like a metal skewer that had been left too long in a fireplace – heated iron. Fighting to focus her eyes, she rolled her head toward the sound of the voice, seeing a man with his back to her, stoking a fire. His long black hair hung to his waist in a heavy plait, gliding easily over what appeared to be a silk robe.

"You…you're using…mag…magic…" she grunted, struggling to make her mouth form the words, while her body lay useless and unmoving on the bed. The man glanced over his shoulder at her, the wicked glint in his eyes making Sarah's stomach twist inside her, a wave of fear shivering down her spine. His face. She knew that face, but the fog in her mind refused to lift to help her remember.

"No magic, little peach. Rohypnol. Actually, it was quite nice of you to go to the party so willingly. It made having you drugged that much easier."

Turning from the fireplace, the dark-haired man picked up a shimmering red blade, holding it up so the candlelight flickered across it, making it seem to glow in his hand. The man examined the blade, then pricked the tip of his finger. Sarah watched transfixed as a drop of blood so dark it was nearly black welled up through the nick, then dropped, seeming to hang momentarily in mid-air, before landing upon her bare breast.

"I could kill you now, you know?" he said in a conversational tone, his true intent belied by the evil smirk that twisted his lips. "Did Jareth tell you what will happen to him if you die?" Seeing her eyes widen, the dark man gave a wicked laugh. "Since your bond is not consummated, if one of you dies, the other perishes as well. So killing you would rid me of that blonde fop of a prince." Still laughing to himself, Sarah whimpered despite herself as he moved nearer, only to become aware of a purple glow growing inside the necklace Jareth gave her. As the glow swirled inside, a heat began to emanate from the small crystal.

"But why waste such a tempting peach?" he purred, trailing a finger along Sarah's throat. At his touch the necklace pulsed stronger, the heat making her wince at it burned the tender flesh between her breasts. "Far better to taste of your sweetness first… then wrest the last breath from your body." A burning sensation followed his finger as he teased it down her throat and across her breast, stopping just above the bond mark. "And what's this? A bond mark? Hmmm…just how did you come to be marked so by the Goblin King, little peach? Most married Fae aren't even bonded with a mark," he mused, seeming to speak more to himself than to Sarah. "Still, you are unclaimed physically, such a pity Jareth won't get the chance to taste you first and set the bond," he chuckled, his dark eyes glittering wickedly as he gave the belt of his robe a sharp tug.

The rich silk fell open, revealing the lithe form of a High Fae, his body etched with fine crimson and black lines, swirling over his body. Sarah had seen Jareth's bare chest many times in their shared dreams and knew that as Royal Fae, his flesh was nearly flawless. Biting her lip at the sight of the red and black marks, she knew without a doubt, they were not natural. And despite the fact that she didn't know what the markings were, the electric burst of terror that shot through her at the sight of them told her they had an evil purpose.

Seeing his robe drop to the floor, Sarah moaned, fighting to move her arms and legs, only to find they were like lead. Kneeling on the bed, the dark man grabbed her legs roughly, pushing them apart. At his touch, the necklace pulsed once more, the purple swirling within it growing darker still. Upon her breast, the bond mark seemed to throb, the lines slowly shifting from golden to pitch black, then suddenly searing like a brand against her flesh. Opening her mouth to cry out, Sarah found her throat so dry, there was no sound – nothing save for the tears that rolled down the sides of her face from the pain of his touch. "And when I've had you, 'this' should fade into nothingness…." The dark man sneered, reaching over and running his finger over the mark. The touch of his finger upon the bond mark, send an electric pain shooting through Sarah's body, unlike anything she ever dreamed. Her back bowed in an arch, as her mouth opened in a soundless scream, tears drenching her face and rolling into her hair at the searing touch of his hand on Jareth's mark, stars bursting behind her clenched eyelids.

"And now, little peach… I'll be having you…and the power the Labyrinth gave you," he purred, leaning over her and licking the bond mark.

The agony of his tongue on the mark loosened her voice, an anguished shriek echoing between the worlds as she screamed the only thing she could – "JARETH!"

**_~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~_ **

Groaning, Jareth felt his body continuing to respond to the mating call of his kind, the magic of the fire rite pressing down upon him as an almost palpable sensation. It was bad enough that he was forced to be here yet unable to join in, but add in the endless stream of females and males vying to tempt him into the festivities, and it was almost more than he could bear. With a grumpy sigh, he once more attempted to adjust himself into a more 'comfortable' position, the throbbing erection tightly restrained under the leather of his trousers making 'comfort' an impossibility. "I suppose I could just take matters in hand, as it were," he muttered to himself, only to cringe as Marisol approached his lounge chair and knelt before it, her oiled body bare, except for the finely wrought elven chain around her slender hips.

Kneeling with her knees spread wide and her hands palm up upon her thighs, she bowed her head, allowing Jareth to inspect her – and offering him a particularly good view of her most 'hidden' treasures, which were glistening from the numerous partners she had already enjoyed. "I'd be most honoured to do that for you, Sire?" she purred, peering slyly up at him through a veil of purple hair.

Looking away, Jareth refilled his glass from the jug of wine sitting upon the table next to him, and sipped it leisurely, fighting to control the irritation building within him. "Go away, Marisol. I've told you twice already, I am no partaking of the festivities this year. One of the royal line must abstain. This year, it is me."

"But Jareth," she whined, daring to use his name. At the dark look from her King, she dropped her head once more, "Your Highness…forgive me…but your sister, being with child, must abstain. Could she not fulfill your duty?"

This was not the first time that particular argument had been made to him through the course of the evening, and Jareth had had enough. "Marisol…this is your last chance. Go away and do not approach me again… _ever_ , or you can enjoy a permanent vacation at the Bog. Have I made myself abundantly clear on the matter?" he hissed, his usually pale eyes flickering black with the intensity of his anger.

Gasping, Marisol dropped to her chest upon the dais, a whimper of terror squeaking in her throat. Jareth sighed, sitting up to shoo her away when he felt it – a faint burning sensation from the bond mark on his wrist. Peering under the leather cuff of his glove, he frowned at the dark lines that met his sight. "What the…?" he murmured, only to feel the flesh of the bond sear with heat that made his flesh burn and his blood race with anger. The heat on his wrist was met with a matching heat from his sigil, as a bright flash of purple surrounded it. Roaring, Jareth rose to his feet, understanding the irritation and feeling of anger that coursed through him.

His mate was in danger!

**_~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~_ **

"Bitch!" the dark man snapped, slapping Sarah so hard her head rocked and she saw stars, the whole right side of her face erupting in an agonizing throb with each beat of her heart. Raising the crimson blade, he moved to plunge it downward into her heart, only to be thrown from the bed by the ethereal wind which roared through the room, shaking the furniture, sending smaller items crashing to the floor.

The instant Jareth vanished from the glen, he reappeared in the room, his Goblin Regalia creaking, as the cloak whipped and licked around his leather clad legs. Lifting the crystalline sword in his hand, he growled as he lunged for the dark form in front of him. Even without seeing the face of the Unseelie, he knew who it had to be. "Rayvyn!"

Snarling, Rayvyn scrambled for the nightstand and grabbled the ornate golden globe sitting upon a carved crystal stand. With the orb firmly in his hands, he simply vanished without a trace.

Cursing darkly, Jareth turned his attention to the bed, his snarl growing deeper at the sight which greeted him. His Sarah, nude in another's bed, the smell of lust and sex filling his nostrils, alongside fear. Sobbing, she slowly pulled herself upright, hunching over her knees and rocking. Instinctively, Jareth ripped the cloak from his shoulders and bent near her, wrapping it around her, as his nose wrinkled with distaste. The cloying smell of sex and lust were bad enough, but they were not the only scents assaulting him. The unmistakable scent of alcohol and drugs clung to her body like a perfume. Sniffling and sobbing, Sarah burrowed deeper into his cloak, clutching it around herself. Still growling, Jareth pushed his anger and desire to lash out at her aside and scooped her up, the air shimmering with glitter as the two of them disappeared.

**_~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~_ **

Flailing her hand, Sarah pushed the hand on her shoulder away. "Go away Toby. Piss off!" The hand nudged her shoulder again, shaking her and making her head throb once more, like the goblin army was practicing maneuvers inside her skull. "I said fuck off!" she snapped, the sound of her own voice intensifying the pain in her head.

"Sorry dear, but you have to wake up now," Mrs. Brown murmured as quietly as she could.

Registering the familiar voice and the feel of her own bed, Sarah cracked her eyelids, seeing a teacup and saucer on her nightstand. The warm steam pouring from the cup carried the welcome scent of Earl Grey tea. Sitting on a plate next to the saucer was a piece of dry wheat toast and two asprin.

"Here dear, sit up and have the tea and asprin. They'll help. I'm under orders not to say anything about last night, just to give you these things and tell you that you are expected at breakfast at 8:00, as usual."

Sarah clutched her head as she fought to sit up, the throbbing making her stomach lurch and roll. "I…I'm sorry," she rasped, picking up the tea and sipping it. The feel of the scalding liquid seemed to burn some of the hang over out of her system, leaving her with the nausea and headache. Looking up at Mrs. Brown, she saw no pity in the old woman's gaze, just stoic acceptance.

Gently the housekeeper patted her shoulder. "I'll get your shower started, dear. It's half-past seven, you don't have much time to get ready." Bustling into the bathroom, she turned the shower on full-blast, then bustled out once more. "A bit of advice, dear...there will be no avoiding punishment this time. The sooner you accept that fact and allow the Master to get on with it, the sooner things will settle down once more." Mrs. Brown gave her a sad smile, then left the room.

Punishment. The very thought of what Jareth might do to punish her this time made Sarah's stomach churn wildly. "At the moment, death would be a blessing," she mumbled to herself, biting into the toast and forcing herself to swallow it, the very act of chewing seeming overly loud within her head. Swallowing the aspirin, Sarah put down the cup and pushed herself to her feet – instantly regretting the decision as her stomach lurched violently, sending her racing for the toilet.

"This is going to be a _very_ long morning," she moaned to herself, resting her warm face against the cool porcelain of the bathtub.

At 7:58, Sarah gingerly walked into the breakfast room and made her way to her usual seat. She had tried to wash off the worse of the hang over, but was sure she looked as horrible as she felt. Her eyes were rimmed red with crying and the after effects of whatever Rayvyn had given her. No amount of concealer had hidden the deep purple bags under her eyes, and after three tries, she just gave up on the idea of make-up at all. Upon her cheek was a growing purple bruise, but worse were the marks that the family wouldn't see - angry red marks covered her skin everywhere that Rayvyn had touched her. She felt like death had come calling, challenged her to a fight, then left her, beaten, battered and deemed not-worthy of the blessing of death.

Sitting in her chair with a quiet whimper of pain, Sarah stared resolutely at the golden charger before her. Although Titania and Oberon sat across from her, she was too ashamed to meet their eyes. Hearing crisp footsteps in the hall, Sarah flinched, recognizing the cadence of the steps, steps which belonged to only one person in the house – Jareth.

No one spoke as Jareth stalked into the room. The only sound breaking the silence were his footsteps and the scrape of his chair as he sat at the head of the table. Mrs. Brown swept in quietly, giving murmured instructions to the new kitchen girl to serve the plates. Sarah was only dimly aware when a plate of eggs, bacon and toast was placed before her. When the side door leading to the kitchen swung shut, signaling that the staff had left the room, Sarah gulped, her voice coming out a dry whisper from her suddenly dry mouth. "Jareth…I…"

"Just…don't, Sarah. I don't want to hear it," Jareth replied, his words clipped and cold. He stared at his plate for a moment, the crisp lines of his suit matching the steely look upon his face.

No one spoke as he picked up his fork and began to eat. Titania and Oberon watched their son and the young woman they hoped to have as a daughter-in-law, helpless to do anything as the issue was a 'family' matter – one that Jareth would have to deal with. Picking up their own cutlery, the High King and Queen began their breakfast, casting curious glances at the unmoving girl across from them, and angry countenance of their son.

"Please…I…I can explain..." Sarah pleaded softly, her eyes still upon her plate, and her hands clenched in her lap.

"Oh? Really? Because I would really like to hear you explain why you disobeyed my instructions not to leave the manor unless escorted by the people I pay to keep you safe? And how, in doing so, you ended up naked in the bed of an Unseelie rogue?!" Jareth hissed, glaring at the bowed head of the brunette to his right.

Titania put her fork down, finding herself unable to swallow her breakfast from the anger coursing through the familial link. Reaching over she felt Oberon's hand find hers and give it a reassuring squeeze. For several moments, all was quiet in the breakfast room, as Jareth attacked his breakfast, and Sarah stared at her untouched plate.

"That part wasn't my fault…"

"Actually Sarah…it is…your…fault!" Jareth snapped, putting his tea cup back in the saucer with so much force the thin porcelain cracked. Not noticing the broken china, his pale eyes narrowed on Sarah's face, making her flinch back against her chair. "YOU left the manor. YOU got drunk…and put yourself in a position to be taken by him! And all this after he entered the grounds at the party! How could you be so foolish?!"

Sarah blinked, her green eyes widening in confusion. "He…wait…. What? He was here? Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was trying to keep you safe _here_. I didn't want you to live in fear," Jareth growled, turning his attention back to his plate. "I do not wish to discuss this now, girl. Eat your breakfast, then return to your room. You'll stay there the remainder of the day until I am ready to deal with your punishment."

"Well maybe if you'd told me what was really doing on, I'd have stayed here!"

Slamming his knife down on the butter plate, Jareth's voice rose, his words sharp. "And maybe if you'd do as you are told by your King…."

"You aren't…."

"Don't fight me on this Sarah. I'm in no mood for your arguments today!"

Sarah frowned, her cheeks flushing with anger at being dismissed. "Okay, aside from the obvious of me disobeying you, I don't understand why you are so angry? Your magic necklace saved me from him…."

Throwing his fork onto his plate, Jareth slammed his hands down onto the table, making the plates and cutlery rattle down the length of the table. "Because you could have gotten KILLED!"

"Oh yeah…so it's all about you. It's not really about what could have happened to ME, but about the fact that if I die before we consummate the bond, then YOU die too. Selfish, Goblin King… I should have known."

"ME selfish?! It is you who is bloody selfish, Sarah! You never think of anyone but yourself," Jareth roared, his eyes turning black as his glamour flickered, showing his true Fae self momentarily, before he wrestled control of his magic once more. "Yes, I would die. I would lose my bond mate and any chance of love or children – is it any wonder I'd die of a broken heart?!"

Gawping at the anger pouring from Jareth, Sarah felt a strand surge of fear, her mind lighting up for a brief moment as words seemed to sound in her head. _'Why must you fight me, love. I do this for you. To protect you!'_

"You what…" Sarah mumbled, only to be greeted with a blank look from Jareth who had not spoken the words aloud.

Ignoring her, Jareth glowered at his plate, before lifting his eyes to hers once more, the disappointment and anger, tinged with fear, making Sarah's heart clench in her chest. "It isn't about me, Sarah. Far more devastating is the effect it would have on Toby. If you had been killed in that accident or at Rayvyn's hand…Toby would have lost the last blood relative he has! The child has lost enough hasn't he? Must he lose you as well purely because you are determined to ignore my wishes at every turn?!"

"Toby…Oh Gods…Jareth…I…I'm sorry…."

"Save your sorry…it is worthless at this moment, girl," Jareth snarled, pushing back his chair and stalking out of the room.

Sniffling, Sarah wiped her eyes with the navy linen napkin from her lap. After several moments, she raised her red eyes to the King and Queen, a sob causing her voice to rasp. "I…I'm sorry…. I didn't think… I just…why is he so mad? He'd have Toby…. Toby would be safe with him…and you two."

Titania reached over and squeezed Sarah's hand. "Darling, weren't you listening? Jareth wouldn't have Toby. He'd die without you." With sad eyes, Titania looked at Oberon. "We have to tell her, my love."

Nodding, the High King sighed. "My darling girl… Jareth is angry because of the bond."

With a despondent sniff, Sarah hung her head, tears dripping from the tip of her nose to land in her untouched eggs. "He doesn't want it, does he? I thought…I thought after the other night…maybe he'd changed his mind."

"No my dear, it isn't that," Oberon replied, reaching out a fatherly hand and gently patting the girls clenched fingers on the table. "Jareth is angry because seeing you at the hands of Rayven and knowing you could have been killed by either the accident or Rayvn scared him."

Frowning in confusion, Sarah looked at Jareth's parents, tears still sliding slowly down her cheeks. "Scared?"

Titiana smiled quietly and nodded. "While the bond is incomplete, yes, he would die if you should, but the fact is….he cares deeply for you Sarah."

"He's got a lousy way of showing it."

Laughing softly, Oberon nodded, winking at his wife. "He takes after his father when it comes to mortal women. Just like you have fought the bond and what it means for you if you fully accept it, he fights it too. He is your guardian at your father's wishes, which complicates things, as he does not wish you to feel pressured or pushed into anything of an intimate or physical nature – including formal acceptance of the bond. Yet the bond has an effect on him as well."

Silently taking in what Titiana and Oberon said, Sarah sniffed, rubbing her temples. "I… I've still got a headache."

"Go rest dear. I'll have a tray sent up to you in a bit," replied Titania. "He'll calm down by this evening."

At the mention of the evening, Sarah looked up at them, her eyes wide with alarm. "Oh Gods…tonight. Punishment. What will he do?" she gasped.

Oberon and Titania fell silent, looking at each other, then Sarah, before Oberon spoke. "I can't say what he will do, child. It is his right as your guardian to punish you and in this case you not only endangered yourself, but him as well. Were you anyone else, you'd be charged with reckless endangerment and jailed."

"Oberon, hush! You'll frighten the poor girl more than she already is," Titania scolded her husband. With tender eyes she looked at Sarah and shook her head. "We can't tell you what will happen, darling. Just know, that he does care for you, more than he is prepared to admit. He will never harm you in any way. No matter how angry he may be now, you will always be safe with him, even… well…even when punishment is called for."

Sniffling, Sarah rose from the table. "It's not fair," she mumbled sadly as she left the breakfast room.

Titania sighed and looked at her husband, her pale violet eyes brimming with worry. "What do you think he'll do?"

"I don't know, my love. But I suspect Sarah is in for a hard learned lesson about obedience to her King and the consequences for disobedience within our culture." Lifting his wife's hand to his lips, he pressed a tender kiss to the knuckles. "Whatever happens, I have no doubt that Jareth will never harm the girl. Despite everything, they love each other. This lesson may be unpleasant, but in the end, it will make them both stronger. Of that I am sure.

**_~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~_ **

TRANSLATION:

1) When the veil between the worlds thins, the link between flesh and blood must be renewed. Let the ancient rite renew the land and the flesh as one.

* * *

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I won't apologize for the delay in this update....life happens. I have not abandoned this story, but I can only write when I have the time, the mental energy and the creative muse to do so. Unfortunately, having all three of those things at the same time, for long enough to pound out a chapter of any of my stories is difficult. I hope you enjoy this chapter. As always, please review.


	24. Musings and Motives

**Ch. 24: Musings and Motives**

**Author's Note:** This is just a friendly little reminder (since some of the commenters seem to have forgotten) that the underlying elements of this story ARE kinky - just not based on the book '50 Shades'. The type of 'punishment' dynamic you are seeing here is a style of kink known as 'Domestic Discipline' (also referred to as: 50's Household, Head of Household, etc…). In this style, one partner (often the male, but these relationships can be female-led) is 'in charge' and they apply discipline for disobedience to all other members of the household. This type of structure works for some people and not for others. For those of you who find Jareth's reaction in the last chapter to be offensive...Ch. 26 may be difficult for you to take. That said, this is a necessary step in the plot to bring Sarah more fully into the culture.

 _ **Question from a reader:**_ _Will she ever 'turn the tables'?_ *sly smirk* That is the only spoiler I will give on this matter - for now.

And lastly, please remember that kink is NOT for everyone. But while it isn't for everyone, those who do enjoy it, often find a link between punishment and arousal. So if that sort of thing is offensive to you, kindly skip this chapter (and the next). Negative comments about the kink themes in this chapter will be summarily ignored. Anyone who has read more than one of my stories should know that kink features heavily (but in stories like this, there is a bit of 'world-building' that must be done before we can get to the 'juicy stuff' - and for those of you who are wondering, we're getting closer to the lemons, so stay tuned for Ch. 26 & 27

 **WARNINGS:** Kink themes, corporal punishment, sexual references.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

_Tick...tick...tick...tick..tick…_

The white clock with it's cheerful painted pink roses kept time from it's perch upon the mantel in Sarah's sitting roome. Each crisp 'tick' kept time for the steps pf the pacing girl who moved from one side of the room to the other.

_Tick...tick...tick...tick...tick...tick…_

Steadily the golden pendulum swung in time with the soft 'ticking' of the clock, each swing corresponding to one foot stepping in front of the other. For several hours now, Sarah had paced the room, from the balcony door, dotted with rain drops from the fall storm blowing outside; to the gilded mirror hanging upon the wall by the sitting room door. She didn't want to pace. In fact, she wanted nothing more than to sit or sleep, but for some reason the thoughts that tumbled through her brain were more bearable if she kept moving.

"He said he would never harm me...that punishment was never about anger but correction," she muttered to herself, her bare feet sinking into the plush top of the silken rug that covered the polished wooden floor. For a fleeting moment she wished her feet would just keep sinking into the soft rug until she ceased to exist - but when that didn't happen, she sighed, turning around for another lap across her sitting room. "And he did take care of me last night. He didn't have to, but he did."

Stopping once more, she reached out, her fingertips lightly caressing the glass of the balcony door. She remembered the terror she felt as Rayvyn lifted the knife above her chest, and the split second when she saw the blade start its descent toward her chest. Just as she had shut her eyes preparing for the tearing sensation she was sure would come, there was nothing. Then she felt her body rock as Rayvyn was knocked bodily off her. At that point all she could see was Jareth, storming through the candle-lit room, his armor sparkling darkly in the dim light and creaking ominously with each step that he took. In that moment, he was more terrifying than Rayvyn had been - and she'd never been happier to see any living being in her life. Within moments of him entering the room, Sarah registered feeling returning to her limbs, followed by the overwhelming desire to vomit or curl into a ball and hope that the she faded from existence. Unable to face the wrath in Jareth's steely eyes, she struggled to curl in on herself, her brain still fighting to process anything through the fog that filled it. Yet there were things she remembered vividly.

Burned upon her mind, was the feel of Jareth's cloak surrounding her, the lining still warm from where it had pressed against his own body. Sarah could keenly feel an anger that she knew was not hers, he mark on her chest throbbing with the force of the emotion. The feeling fought it's way through the fog in her mind, until she recognized that the anger wasn't hers - it was Jareth's. That revelation puzzled her as the fury rushed through her, making her heart ache, even as Jareth tenderly tucked his heavy leather cloak around her, then picked her up, cradling her firmly against his chest. In an instant she felt the world seem to bend and slide around them, the sensation forcing her already weary eyes shut. A moment later the world seemed to 'snap' back into place, and Sarah found herself still in Jareth's arms, her head against his shoulder, while his heartbeat thudded against her ear; the sound at once reassuring and mesmerizing. It had been mere moments since he had rescued her, but through the fog in Sarah's mind, each moment seemed to stretch and slow with each blink of her eyes. Bending, Jareth went to lay her upon her own bed, only to stop as she whined, gripping him tightly and burying her face against the curved collar of his leather jacket..

Despite the anger she was sure he felt, Jareth was surprisingly gentle with her. Instead of laying her on the bed, he simply sat down, cradling her in his lap like a child. Sarah, sighed, shutting her eyes as she remembered the way she had burrowed into his arms, soundless sobs wracking her form. Silently he rocked her in his lap, his hand rubbing her back through the thick leather, she still clutched around her. Each sob filled her lungs with the heavy scent of exotic spices that clung to him. With each breath, a part of her mind wished that the scent of him would engulf her and drown out the rush of conflicting emotions that crashed through her - fear...desolation...disappointment….

"Shh...Sarah...it's okay. You're safe now. I've got you, Precious," he murmured, his lips pressing tenderly against the top of her head. She felt his arms shift around her, one arm holding her tight to his chest, as the other moved, twisting gracefully then tossing a shimmering pink bubble into the air. "Mother...I have need of you. Bring Maeve."

"Jareth...No…" she had tried to protest, the words barely audible as she clutched him tighter still.

"Yes, darling. There things that must be done, that I cannot do for you," he sighed. Sarah could still feel the anger, but it lessened gradually, as new feelings crept to the fore - concern and fear.

"Don't leave me," she whispered against the flesh of his neck, her body attempting to somehow get closer to him that she already was.

Gently rubbing her back, Jareth pressed another kiss to her temple. "If you wish me to stay, I will."

Shivering despite the warmth of his cloak and the feel of his firm arms surrounding her, Sarah nodded. "Stay. Please"

Then Titania and Maeve were there, fussing and bustling about. She heard them talking about her, then to her - their words low and urgent, then gentle and cajoling as they tried to remove her from Jareth's arms. Each time they attempted to take her from him, Sarah felt a tearing sensation under the bond mark, making her grip him tighter. In the end, it had been Jareth who had hummed softly in her ear, murmuring gentle words to reassure her as he slid the cloak from her bare flesh. Sarah didn't know what was done to her, her only focus was on the gentle humming and the feel of his lips against her ear, the feathery wisps of his hair lightly caressing her cheek and neck. He was her rock. The only anchor she had. And there he had stayed until Titania and Maeve had finished with her.

When they were done, Jareth had pressed a glistening pink crystal into her hand, his lips soft as they grazed her forehead. Sarah looked at the crystal in her hand, awed by the sparkling skin of it - then she squeaked in surprise when it burst. A rippling feeling washed over her as she was clothed in her favorite, butter-soft flannel pajamas, which covered her from neck to ankle. Taking a goblet from Maeve, Jareth had been so gentle when he had held it to her lips, "Sip this, Precious, it will help you sleep."

Sarah remembered trying to argue, her whimpered words being met with a tender kiss upon her ear and the whispered words, "Trust me, Sarah." Licking her lips, even now Sarah could almost taste the light and fruity potion, which slid easily down her throat. Within three breaths, she felt her eyelids grow heavy once more. Resting her head against Jareth's shoulder, Sarah sighed and let sleep overtake her.

Turning from the window, Sarah resumed her pacing, her steps falling into rhythm with the steady ticking of the clock. Turbulent thoughts roiled through her brain, pushing against each other in their insistence to be noticed. "Too many emotions," she muttered, running her hand restlessly through her hair. "Makes sense I suppose… after what happened...but still." With a sigh, she glanced at the phone, fighting the urge to try to call Angel again, knowing it would be a useless gesture.

The first thing she had done when she returned to her rooms after the disastrous scene at breakfast, was to pick up the phone and ring Angel at school. Marcy answered the dorm phone - of course Marcy would be the prefect on duty on a Sunday morning after the disastrous party that looked sure to ruin her life. In her snide tone, Marcy clearly took great pleasure in telling Sarah that Angel had been sent home with her grandparents for the next week. She finished the call by informing Sarah that the whole school knew she had been drunk and driving the car. "I'll be surprised if Ms. Bethell doesn't have the school board expel you…. If she doesn't, you can bet it's because Mr. Rex bought her off. Must be nice to have a 'Daddy' with money," the queen-bee laughed. "Oh that's right, you don't _have_ a 'real' Daddy anymore, do you.?"

Hanging up on Marcy, Sarah started dialing the number for Angel's grandparents - a phone call which went even worse than talking to Marcy. The housekeeper for the Omicioli's told her in no uncertain terms that no calls from Sarah would be passed to Angel, since she was clearly a bad influence upon the younger girl, who was easily swayed into inappropriate situations. In the background, Sarah could hear Angel's grandfather, yelling in Italian and Angel crying.

And that was it.

For the next hour she sobbed on her bed, wallowing in the unfairness of it all. Everyone believed she had instigated things and run into the gates at the edge of Harbincourt House - and she couldn't remember a thing about what happened after she and Angel arrive at the party.

Of course, she and Jareth knew there was more to the story - Rayvyn was involved, but neither of them were sure exactly how, since Sarah's only memories of the evening were so jumbled and fuzzy, they would never hold up in court.

Sniffing, Sarah paced several more laps of her sitting room, then stopped. With a sigh, she raised her head to look at her reflection in the gilded mirror. Dull green eyes stared back, surrounded by red rims, still swollen and sore from the tears she had shed - for reasons she was not entirely sure of. Sure, she had shed tears over what Rayvyn had nearly done to her, but for some reason, the fear she felt over him was overshadowed by a horrible sensation that made her heart clench in her chest, freezing into ice. An ache that seemed to grow in intensity anytime she thought of Jareth and what was waiting for her in his office that evening. It wasn't just his anger that made her ache inside, but the fact that she had disappointed him. "I was nearly raped last night… by a crazy Dark Fae...and I'm more worried about Jareth being disappointed in me. What the fuck is wrong with me?!" she muttered, absently rubbing the bond mark, as it started to throb and itch. Sighing deeply, Sarah rested her forehead against the smooth glass of the mirror. "I wonder what Jareth is going to do to me?"

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

"Bogdamnit Sarah… what _am_ I going to do with you?" Jareth muttered, his boots clicking steadily against the stone floor of the throne room. Since breakfast he had been pacing the castle - first the Room of Improbable Planes, then the halls and stairs of the family wing where he hoped one day to house Sarah and Toby, then through the formal throne room and the informal throne room.

It was rare for the Goblin King to feel such confusion and indecisiveness - and this time he couldn't blame it on feeling Sarah's emotions. No, this time it was all him.

When he felt Sarah's call through the bond and materialized where she was, what he saw both terrified him and infuriated him at once. He wanted nothing more than to let his magic loose in one burst, but couldn't risk hurting Sarah. The anger at seeing his Sarah naked and at the mercy of a madman attempting to kill her, spurred him to action. It wasn't until he was wrapping her in his cloak afterward, that he felt anger toward her. "Stubborn woman. Why must you fight me at every single turn?" he grumbled, viciously kicking the drunk goblin that stumbled into his path. The goblin squealed happily as he sailed through the air and bounced off a stone ledge set high up on the throne room wall. "If she'd only done as I asked and stayed home, none of this would have happened."

As much as this were true, her disobedience had shown Jareth one thing very clearly - he really did care for her. Seeing her shivering and terrified brought out an urge to protect and nurture that he had never felt toward another being. Sure, he expected to feel such things for his children someday, but not for a woman… particularly a woman he shared such an intimate bond with, a bond which was only growing stronger and more intimate by the day.

He didn't question his urge to protect and care for her while he held her for Maeve and his mother to examine her - that was just what a guardian would do for their charge. No, it wasn't until she had fallen asleep that he truly realized the depth of his feelings for the girl. He was only gone a matter of minutes to speak to his Father about Rayvyn, but the whole time he was gone, a feeling of disquiet and niggled at him. Under the cuff of his leather glove, the bond mark began to itch and throb, never letting him forget it's presence. Upon returning to Sarah's room, he found Maeve and Titania attempting to console the sleeping young woman, as she tossed and turned in the bed, crying out and whimpering. The moment he entered the room, she whimpered, "Jaaareth...stay." The bond mark throbbed heavily at her words, as did his heart.

Crossing the room, the rigid armor of his regalia faded away, leaving him in loose lounging pants and a simple tunic. "I'm here, Sarah," he murmured, sitting gingerly next to her on the bed. Instantly she calmed, rolling toward him. Without thinking, Jareth had reached out, his fingers stroking her cheek. He couldn't help but smile, as she nuzzled into his palm, sighing deeply. Even with him at her side and caressing her cheek, Sarah still was restless, whimpering fretfully every few minutes, while his mother and Maeve continued to fuss over her, attempting to soothe her into a deep, dreamless sleep. After an hour of enduring their fussing, Jareth waved his hand toward the door. "Go...I'll stay with her. There is nothing more your magic can do." They tried to argue, but in his heart he knew what Sarah needed - and it was something neither of them could provide.

When the two women had left the room at last, Jareth rose and pulled his shirt over his head, dropping it on the foot of Sarah's bed. The young woman under the covers became more fretful and restless, whimpering his name at the loss of his touch. "Shh, love...I know what you need," he murmured. With a soft snap his fingers, the door fell shut and locked with a 'snickt'. As he moved around the side of the bed, the lights slowly dimmed and went out, leaving the room bathed in gentle moonlight through the open window. Pulling back the covers, Jareth slid beneath them, smiling as Sarah immediately rolled toward him, burrowing against his chest with a content sigh. Only tucked against his chest did she relax, the sleeping potion finally taking full effect. Every now and then she still whimpered, occasionally moaning, "No...Rayvyn…"

Jareth sighed, glancing into a glistening crystal balanced upon his fingertips, he could see the images of her dream. She was dreaming of her time with Rayvyn, and he was powerless to intervene without her permission. Leaning toward her, Jareth whispered, his voice low, as he let his natural Fae timbre creep into his words, "Dream, Sarah… feel it all in your dream, yet when you wake, the fear will not trouble you, it will seem far this,...I will take care of you. In my arms, you will always be safe."

With his promise still hanging in the air, she finally stilled, smiling slightly in her sleep. And there he stayed until the wee hours of the morning, silently holding vigil over his Champion - the woman he loved.

And that was the problem.

He loved her, yet he was honor bound to punish her for her disobedience to him as the head of the family and her King. _'How in the seven veils am I supposed to punish the woman I love after what she went through last night?!_ ' he thought, then roared, the sound shaking the very stones of the castle. Turning suddenly, Jareth belted a hapless goblin out of his way and growled, "I may love her, but she still disobeyed an order from her King! Now what am I supposed to do?!"

The small goblin sailed across the room, squealing with delight as it flew past Oberon's ear. Tilting his head slightly to watch the small green-grey body fly out the balcony window, still happily giggling, Oberon couldn't help but chuckle himself. "Your aim is always worse when you are agitated, my boy."

Stopping his pacing, Jareth glanced toward the doorway, his pale eyes narrowing at the sight of his father, sauntering casually into his throne room. Jareth sighed inwardly, a sense of shame creeping into his mind at the way Oberon's white robes seemed to glow against the dingy grey, soot-marked walls of the Goblin Castle's informal throne room. Before the arrival of the High King, he had found solace in being here, now the room and it's occupants seemed shabby and not worthy of such a presence. Shaking his head, Jareth scowled at the white-haired King, who was making his way through the room, ignoring the debris that littered the floor - feathers, broken ale mugs, bits and pieces of random junk, and the ever-present smell of chicken shit and grog. "Why are you here, Father?"

"Because I _am_ your Father, and I care about you," Oberon replied with a quiet smile.

Waving his hand next to Jareth's curved throne, a simple wooden chair appeared. Despite the simplicity of the chair, it looked far more appropriate for a King than his own carved bone monstrosity - a relic of an ancient Goblin King that neither Jareth nor his father felt they could part with. It was part of the Goblin King legacy.

Oberson smiled quietly as he watched the thoughts flitting through his son's eyes, then settled onto the chair with a soft grunt of pain. At the sound of the groan, Jareth looked at her father, a sculpted eyebrow arching suspiciously. Laughing, Oberon rubbed his shoulder and shrugged. "Your Mother was in need of… correction last night. I over-extended myself just a bit in dealing with her."

Jareth's frustrated demeanour thawed a bit as he laughed, shaking his head and holding up a hand."Say no more. I don't need to know details."

"Come, sit my boy," Oberon ordered his son, nodding toward the curved bone throne, a gentle laugh in his voice. "You sit and I will spare you the details."

Nodding, Jareth sprawled on his throne, one leg draped casually over the curved arm of the chair. For several long minutes he ignored his father, who sat there, smiling agreeably at him, merely content to wait for his son to speak. An irritable sigh escaped Jareth, as he idly tapped his calf with the crop that appeared in his hand. _'If I wait long enough, perhaps he'll give up and leave,'_ he mused stubbornly. Unfortunately, Oberon had other ideas.

"Aside from Sarah disobeying you, what is the real problem, Jareth?"

The steady tapping of the crop against leather stopped, as Jareth leaned his head against the back of the throne, staring at the domed ceiling of the throne room. He hated it when his parents were right, and yet again...they were. "I love her, Father. You were right."

"You're surprised? When will you learn to listen to your parents, boy?" Oberon chuckled, looking fondly upon his youngest son. Even though Jareth may be an adult, even as he lounged over the carved bone throne of the Goblin Kingdom, Oberon still saw the child he once was - trying to hide his tender heart behind a wall of stone and bluster. "And how loving the girl a problem, Jareth? It seems to me that resolves some things rather nicely."

Jareth's angular face pursed with thought, the rhythmic tapping starting up again. "I love her, but she disobeyed me. Now I have to punish her in such a way that she will finally learn to obey her King, but won't come to fear her...her… blast! I don't even know _what_ I am to her!"

Oberon shook his head, a softly amused chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Oh, my dear boy… you may have been an adult for many years, but now...now you are truly understanding the weight of being the head of a family. It is not an easy burden to bear."

Sighing, Jareth looked over at his Father, the gentle green-grey eyes smiling warmly at him. "What should I do, Father? I love her, yet I know I must punish her. She is only starting to thaw toward me and the thought of our bond enduring to become permanent. The last thing I want to do is act rashly and frighten her away, particularly after what she experienced last night. Yet, she must learn her place in the family...as well as our society. She has to be punished for the disobedience alone...or is her fear over what nearly transpired enough punishment?"

"While I can't tell you what you should do, Jareth, I can offer you a story."

Jareth grumbled, his head dropping back as his eyes shut in frustration. "A story won't help, Father. No offense."

"Oh… shut up boy, and listen," Oberon laughed. "You know that when a couple is formally declared to be courting, that the trial marriage phase also gives the husband-to-be the authority to punish his betrothed within reason."

Draping an arm over his eyes, Jareth groaned. "Don't remind me. I shudder to think what Sarah will say or do when she finds out the terms of the bans - should we ever reach that point at all."

"Well, when your mother and I were newly declared as a courting couple, I forbade her from being alone with Cirexes, the other suitor who nearly won the right to court her. One day, she saw me flirting with a mortal witch. In her anger, she agreed to meet Cirexes for a midnight picnic." Seeing Jareth peer at him from under the flowing shirt that covered his arm, Oberon smiled to himself.

"Cirexes. I don't recognize that name. Who is he?"

"I'll get to that, Jareth. Just listen," scolded his Father with an indulgent grin."The night that she met him, I was held up in the war room, preparing for battle with Galen and the other generals. Your mother and I were not yet bonded like you and Sarah, but we had begun to feel each other. As I was in the war room, I felt an unusual sense of disquiet - I knew something was wrong, but couldn't place it. Suddenly I felt a wave of fear and anguish and knew without a doubt something was happening to Titania. When I arrived, I found her being held down by Cirexes. Her dress was ripped, exposing her and he was attempting to force himself upon her. You know that feral rage that the bond creates when one's mate is in danger, well… I took care of Cirexes. There is a reason you haven't heard of him, my boy. There was nothing left when I was done."

Jareth looked at his father, blinking in surprise at the admission that he had committed murder to protect his betrothed. While he was surprised, Jareth remembered the cold fury that shook him at the image of Rayvyn kneeling between Sarah's parted thighs, attempting to thrust a blade through her chest, and he understood the rage that would have possessed his father to commit such an act. "What happened then?"

"I was faced with a similar conundrum to you, Jareth. She had disobeyed me, her betrothed and her High King and in doing so she had endangered herself. Yet, she had also been attacked by him, so she was still dealing with her fear and shame from that. As King and husband, I had to act, but as lover and husband, I also needed to reassure her that I cared. Unlike you and Sarah, your mother and I had already celebrated our betrothal in more...intimate ways. So the next night, I called her into my rooms and I sat her down and explained exactly why she was being punished - that it was the result of the disobedience, nothing else. Then I stripped her down and I punished her with the crop - she's always hated it, so I knew she would remember the lesson. Mid-way through she began to sob and spill out the story of what Cirexes had done. I held her through the night, kissing away her tears and reassuring her of my love. That was the last time she seriously disobeyed me, because it also cemented the role of communication in our relationship. She knew from that point on that if I told her _not_ to do something, there was always a good reason for it."

Tapping the crop against his calf once more, Jareth stared pensively at the clock upon the wall. The two kings were quiet for some time, before Jareth broke the silence. "Father, how did you know that Mother would come to enjoy pain as a part of pleasure? I mean… I've played that way intimately with women for years, but I knew at the outset they would enjoy that - most Fae do. But Sarah… she's…."

"A changeling, with mortal mores," finished Oberon, nodding sagely. "Yes… that is a wise question, my boy. Being the Master of Dreams, you have an advantage I did not, since you can see her dreams if you so wish - provided you do not actually 'meddle' in them, of course."

Jareth considered his Father's words, then nodded thoughtfully. "I remember the dreams we shared during l'hrev. And if those are anything to go by…." he said, letting the remainder stay unspoken. "It seems an invasion to monitor her dreams without her consent, though."

A swell of pride rose up within Oberon. Standing, he patted his youngest child on the shoulder, smiling broadly. "You'll make a fine husband and father, Jareth - _now_ you are finally asking the right questions and seeing the twisted strands that make the head of the family powerful, courageous, and weak, all at once. It is not a position to be taken lightly, especially if you truly love the woman you build a family with. Love complicates things in some ways, but without it, there is no point. I think, while you need to remind her of your authority over her as her King, you must also start to communicate more fully with her, as your mate."

"But she's not…." Jareth began, only to be waved to silence by Oberon's large hand.

"No, she is not yet your mate, but you should treat her with the respect, love and honour your mate deserves, Jareth. Love, honour, respect and the ability to punish a person, are not mutually exclusive. Where my family is concerned, I punish them _because_ I love them. Our people understand this. Talk to Sarah, help her see the love. The honour. The respect. And she will come to see the necessity for the punishment and the love inherent in it."

Jareth opened his mouth only to be interrupted by the rough clearing of a throat from hidden doorway to the Above. Glancing at the door, Jareth felt a burst of irritation. "This had better be good, Hogwart," he snapped.

Gulping, Hoggle nodded, twisting a piece of parchment in his hand as he bobbed a clumsy bow in the general direction of the High King. "Yer Majesties...sorry to interrupt, but...well, I'm pretty sure you'd gonna wanna hear this, Sire," he said, willing his stumpy legs not to wobble."It's about the past runners."

"What of them?" Jareth drawled in a disinterested ton, as he spun a shimmering crystal upon his fingertips. It never failed, just when he would rather be off working to reestablish peace with Sarah, the bloody dwarf had to go and ruin things. However, the mere fact that Hoggle was willing to not only enter the throne room, but to interrupt a meeting of two powerful kings, told him that whatever information Hoggle had, was likely to be of some importance. At the hesitation from Hoggle, Jareth rolled his eyes. "Get on with it, Hogsnot!" Jareth snapped, ignoring the stern look from his Father - after all, Hoggle was _his_ scout and a member of the Goblin Court, so Jareth could speak to him in any manner that suited him. "The High King has things to do, as do I. We haven't got all day to wait for you to spill your guts."

Hoggle stumbled over a sleeping goblin as he came closer, nodding his head. "Yes, Sire. Well, ahh...I've been checking on yer chattels in the Above, that is, the runners you sent back... Like you asked me to every quarter," Hoggle stammered.

"Yes, yes...I am familiar with that task, Hoggart. Get to the point."

Feeling a burst of anger in his belly, Hoggle straightened up, his leather vest riding up over his pudgy belly as he glowered at the his king. "There's some missin.." Seeing the darkness flicker in Jareth's eyes as his King sat upright on his throne, leaning forward the dwarf's brief show of confidence faded, and he fought the urge to cower behind Oberon's leg.

"What. Did. You. Say?" Jareth demanded, the disinterest vanishing from his voice in an instant.

Hoggle bit his lip as he pulled a battered black leather book from his vest and opened it. "Twelve runners are missing, Sire."

"Perhaps they are merely run-aways?" the High King suggested, tugging thoughtfully on his ivory beard.

"I thought that at first too," Hoggle replied, offering the High King his notebook. "So's I checked up on the police reports and got what information I could from the families. They've all disappeared. No trace. Didn't take nuthin with 'em...and runaways at least take somma their stuff."

Jareth and his Father looked at each other, a wave of dread flowing between them. All runners who entered the Labyrinth and those who accepted their dreams, were marked as chattel of the Goblin King. While it was within his right to claim them at any time and force them uphold the obligation they entered into merely by calling on him, the Goblin King was not without mercy and chose to let them live their human lives.

"For one or two to go missing as runaways is conceivable, but this….this is no mere coincidence," Jareth murmured, tapped a gloved finger against his lower-lip and looking thoughtfully out the balcony. Stretching far into the distance, the Labyrinth gently shifted and moved, as she always did. With a snap of his fingers, he pulled a crystal from the air and concentrated on it, growling when the grey mist within simply swirled lazily. "Blast… I can't even scry for them," he snarled, hurling the crystal against the wall where it shattered.

"All of the last 12 are missing?" Oberon asked, looking down at the stout dwarf lurking near his knee.

Shaking his head, Hoggle pointed at the list in the book with a stubby finger. "No, yer Majesty. That's the odd bit. It's just the girls."

At that, Jareth rose and snatched the book from his Father's hand. Running a finger down the list of runners that had called upon him in the last 3 years, Jareth counted 42 names. Twelve names were marked with a red X. Their stories and reasons for wishing away a child varied wildly, but they all shared one trait - "All of the missing runners are young women," he muttered, more to himself than his father or Hoggle.

Hoggle trembled and mopped his forehead with a wrinkled handkerchief. "Yas, Sire. All aged 10 to 18 in human years."

Looking again at the list, Jareth frowned, his finger tapping upon the space between the twelfth missing young woman, and the boy under her name. "Thirteen…" he murmured, his eyes flickering darkly. "There are thirteen young women that have been in contact and marked by the Goblin King and the Labyrinth in the last three years."

"Begging yer pardon, Sire. But there's only been twelve runners that's taken their dreams or failed over the last three years. Thems the ones you told me to check in on," Hoggle insisted, counting up on his fat fingers. "I'm sure of it."

"Shut. Up!" Jareth hissed, glowering at the dwarf. "I'm telling you, there are _thirteen_ young women marked by the King and the Kingdom during that time."

Oberon wondered at the sudden surge of anger that pulsed through the familial bond, until Jareth looked up at him, his usually pale eyes pitch black. "Sarah is marked by the King and Kingdom, but is not on the list…."

"Because she is already under your care," finished Oberon. "But...why would someone take runners, Jareth? And how would they know who the runners are?"

Arching an eyebrow, Jareth studied his father with cold, calculating eyes. "Only four people know the names of the runners - myself, you, mother and….Hoggle," he snarled, glaring at the dwarf who squeaked, cowering behind the High King's leg. In an instant he had Hoggle by the throat, giving him a shake as his short legs kicked and flailed in mid-air. "What did you do, Hoggle!" he roared.

"It tweren't me, yer Majesty!" Hoggle gasped, clutching uselessly at the gloved hand tightening around his throat. "Honest! I's just check in on 'em. That's all! I swear."

Frantic barking echoed up the stone stairs leading from the main hall on the floor below, growing louder and closer with each bark. A moment later a large sheepdog galloped into the room, spurred on by the brown hob-goblin sitting upon the carved leather saddle. "Sire!" Sir Didymus shouted, jerking sharply on the reins. "Whoa, Ambrosious. Good boy," he murmured, petting the dog gently, before glancing up again. His fluffy eyebrows arched in surprise when he realized he had ridden his steed at a gallop through the High King's legs. "Oh...I say! I do beg your pardon, Your Majesty. But… it is of utmost importance that I speak to the Goblin King, Sire." Blinking still, Didymus look at the Goblin King, and the terrified Hoggle dangling from the Goblin King's clenched hand.

"Be quick, Didymus. I have a traitor who has put my mate in danger. I should quite like to _deal_ with him, if you don't mind," snapped the Goblin King, while Hoggle gave a high-pitched squawk, his eyes bulging in terror.

"Traitor? Hoggle? Don't be daft, Sire. Hoggle would no more put Sarah in danger that he would dance the hula during the High Court Council," Sir Didymus scoffed, shaking his head. "Put him down. I implore you, Sire!"

Giving Hoggle another shake, Jareth glowered at the diminutive bushy fox, still mounted on his sheepdog. Had he been anyone else, Jareth would have bogged first, and asked questions later. However, given Sir Didymus's status as one of Jareth's oldest and most trusted advisors, he was honour bound to hear the little goblin out. "Labyrinth runners have been going missing and Hoggle is the only one outside of my parents and myself who knows the names of _all_ runners. Who else _could_ it be?"

"Disappearances, you say? Interesting..." Sir Didymus muttered, his muzzle pursing tightly in thought, before he flipped his leather eye-patch up and gazed at the Goblin King through the milky veil of his 'eye of wisdom' as Maeve called it. "Well, I don't know who would be foolish enough to betray the kingdom or the Labyrinth in that way, but I may know _who_ is behind the missing runners. And more than that, I believe I know why." Reaching into his jerkin, Sir Didymus pulled out a scrap of parchment and handed it to the king. "When I was searching Rayvyn's rooms, I found this."

Taking the bit of parchment, Jareth dropped Hoggle into the round pit in the middle of the room. "Don't. Move," he snapped, while reading over the neat script on the parchment, his frown deepening even as his anger flared. "Yes, this may explain the disappearances, but not _why._ Or _who_ is feeding him information," he growled, glaring at Hoggle once more.

"Actually, Sire, when I searched his rooms, I found evidence of imps and wisps. They can travel through most realms undetected except by few like myself," interjected Sir Didymus. "It may be that my brother Hoggle did not give the information away, but was perhaps… followed until the information they sought was obtained. Everyone knows that Hoggle is your secret-keeper when it comes to matters of runners."

"What does the paper say?" Oberon asked, blocking out the waves of anger rushing through him from Jareth.

"Seek the Labyrinth marked maid...…" Jareth read, then growled. "But that's all it says. It can be no coincidence that the female runners are those that are missing. Rayvyn's searching for the right maiden. The question now is what he needs them for."

Oberon felt his stomach drop, an icy sensation spreading through him. Running his hand through his hair, he frowned, shaking his head. "I believe I know, but I would need to check a book in my private library." Seeing the searching scowl upon Jareth's face, Oberon reached out, only for Jareth to step away from him, his eyes cold and hard.

"Tell me Father. I would know what would make you look so disturbed," Jareth demanded, straightening up to his full height.

"I believe this may be partial instructions for how to lift the binding of one's powers. But if I remember correctly, the spell requires a Labyrinth maid with the Labyrinth's power. Sarah may be marked by you and the Labyrinth, but she has no innate magic."

With an inarticulate roar, Jareth hurled a barrage of crystals at the wall, then collapsed upon his throne, his head buried in his hands, as a string of curses rolled from his lips.

"Jareth?"

"She has magic, Father. The Labyrinth gifted her with it upon her win and I….I _may_ have inadvertently given her some of my own as well," Jareth groaned, before looking up at his Father. "But I bound her powers as soon as I realized what the Labyrinth and I had done. She doesn't know she harbors such power."

Oberon pursed his lips, nodding thoughtfully as he tugged upon his beard. "She'll have to be made aware of her power and taught, Jareth. If Rayvyn needs her because of it, then we must make sure she can defend herself."

Grimacing, Jareth rubbed a hand over his face. "She won't be happy when she finds out what has happened, and what I did."

"She might surprise you, my boy. She loved fairy tales, perhaps she will enjoy the idea of having magic. As for why you bound her power, tell her the truth, she was too young to wield them and being human she'd be more likely to kill herself or another if she used them without guidance." Jareth nodded silently. "The more pressing question is whether she should remain Aboveground or move Underground. If she were to come to the Crystal City, we could protect her, and have her trained to use her power.""

"While that is true, Father... I do not wish to disrupt her life any further for the time being. And as things stand, I cannot take her there without her consent," Jareth sighed, his anger still burning through him, alongside the discomfiting feeling of dread.

"Perhaps you should ask her?" Oberon suggested, ignoring the puffing of Hoggle as he pulled himself back to a sitting position in the bottom of the stone pit.

Pulling a crystal from the air, Jareth spun it upon his fingertip, showing Sarah sitting in her suite, idly playing random notes on her piano. She had seemed to be growing comfortable in his home, and while he would love to have her grow comfortable in his castle as well, deep down he knew that she was not ready to return with him - especially after his outburst at breakfast. "I will ask...but the decision will be hers and hers alone."

Reaching out, Oberon gave his son's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Go, speak to the woman you would have as your mate, Jareth. Treat her as if she already is and _talk_ to her. Be honest. Perhaps you can yet repair what damage has been done."

"No, I need to make arrangements to protect her and I must supervise the tracking of Ravyn."

"Leave me to see to her protection Above, Jareth. I will go to the academy and expand the protective shield to cover the whole campus - no Dark Fae or un-aligned Underground being will be able to enter the campus without alerting the guard of Par-Avalon. I will also speak to her orchestra and English professors, they have been protecting her at school thus far, they need to know of the danger that is out there."

"What of Rayvyn?" Jareth asked, looking up at his father with a stricken expression. Oberon keenly felt the fear his son harbored at the thought of losing the woman he now realized he loved.

Sir Didymus, sat up straight upon his steed, "Sire, let me take a squadron of the guard to the Above. We will work to pick up his track."

"See that you do. Don't confront him. Just find him. I will take care of the miserable cur myself." Rising from his throne, Jareth's demeanor shifted, becoming quiet and calm, with an underlying sense of determination. "As for me… It is time for Sarah and I to have a little chat."

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 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:** There you go...two chapters in a week...and there will probably be another one over the weekend. Thank you for all the lovely reviews on the last chapter...I look forward to seeing what you have to say on the this chapter and the next couple as well (I'm actually looking forward to writing them).


	25. Truth and Consquences

**Ch. 26 Truth and Consequences**

**Warnings:** Sexual themes, kink themes, corporal punishment...you know...the usual when I'm doing the writing :) Lemon-y stuff coming soon, but this extra-long chapter will have to hold you for a week or so. As always, please review!

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Appearing in his study at the manor house, Jareth paused, looking down at the tight leather trousers and flowing shirt he was still wearing from his time in the castle. Shaking his head at the level of distraction he was experiencing, he waved his hand, walking toward the door. His clothing shimmered a moment, before being replaced with comfortably worn jeans and a simple, white button-down shirt. "Just as well that I didn't forget and show up at her door in my armor," he mused to himself as he left the study and made his way toward the west wing of the second floor.

Moving silently through the house, he pursed his lips, deep in thought. Ordinarily, for a serious talk, he would prefer to call Sarah into his study, or the lounge - but after the scene over breakfast and the delicacy of the subject matter, this talk needed to be on Sarah's own turf. _'She needs to feel safe and comfortable if I want to have any hope of her understanding what I am trying to say, especially after my behaviour this morning.'_

Cringing inwardly at the memory of his words and actions over breakfast, Jareth sighed. He was justifiably angry about her disobedience, but even without his father's words, he knew his response was too harsh. If he was honest with himself he knew why he was so angry with her and the disobedience wasn't the catalyst - it was fear. The split moment when he thought he might lose her was enough to make his heart freeze in his chest. _'_ When Jareth reached her door, he was surprised to see that it was ajar. Peering through the gap, he saw Sarah wrapped in her grandmother's hand-pieced quilt, her hair matted and mussed, as she sat on the piano bench. In her hands was a faded pink toy rabbit.

"It isn't fair, is it Mr. Bun?" Sarah muttered quietly, sitting the stuffed bunny on the music rail of her piano.

Jareth watched quietly as she ran her fingers over the bunny's ears, the toy-fur worn down to a silken gloss from years of caresses and soaking up tears. Unaware of Jareth at the door, Sarah sighed, her fingers stroking the toys ear between her fingers, as she had done when she was upset or stressed, ever since the beloved toy came into her possession when she was five years old.

"Jareth probably hates me. Angel isn't allowed to talk to me anymore. Even Toby is avoiding me. I've fucked everything up," she murmured, her voice words heavy with tears waiting to be shed.

Hearing a quiet knock at the door, Sarah looked up to see Jareth nudging it open.

"May I come in?" he asked, his expression somber. Sarah nodded mutely and gave a quiet sniff. Stepping into her sitting room, Jareth fought down a look of surprise as soft words echoed in his head, _'Just terrific, I'll probably get another punishment on top of everything because he heard me cussing… stupid...stupid Sarah!'_

With the stuffed bunny in one hand, and her other hand clutching the edges of the quilt around herself, Sarah stood up to face him, only to groan when she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. "My hair...Damn...I look a fright." Her eyes went wide as she looked from the mirror to Jareth, a faint whimper dying on her lips. "I...I'm sorry."

Even with red rimmed eyes, tear-stained cheeks and her hair knotted and standing out over her head in a fuzzy mass, Jareth felt a surge of warmth toward the girl - knowing deep down that her beauty far outshone any of the women he had been with, even if she didn't realize it. Moving toward her, he held out his hand. "Come here, Sarah."

Shrinking back, Sarah shook her head frantically. "I'm sorry I cussed. Please, don't punish me now! That's not fair!"

Jareth froze, wondering at her frightened behaviour. _'I suppose it makes sense after my outburst at breakfast,'_ he thought, still perplexed at her reaction to his innocent words, and the sudden wave of fear that flowed through the familial link. Following her gaze to his other hand, he saw that he was now holding a large, flat paddle brush - his own, made of Dyadic Hardwood and fine wild boar bristles. With a sigh, he looked at her once more, his words soft. "It isn't what you think… I just want to help you."

"You can't spank me with that," she muttered, cutting him off with a petulant frown, then sitting back down on the piano bench as if doing so would protect her bum from what she was sure would be an imminent spanking.

"Not today, that is true," he replied, fighting back the laugh that threatened to spill forth. Instead, he merely smiling and stepped closer to her, his bare hand extended toward her. "Shh...it's okay, Sarah. I only wanted to help. I just want to brush your hair." When she didn't move, he gently took the stuffed rabbit from her hand, smiling warmly at the way her hand twitched, as if wanting to snatch it back. "Come, Precious."

Taking her hand, he walked her over to the low footstool sitting in front of the couch and nudged her to sit. Once she had settled on the pouffle, he tucked the rabbit back into her arms, an indulgent smile tugging at his lips from the way she hugged the toy close. Moving slowly so as not to startle her any further, he slipped behind her and sat on the couch, then gently guided her to lean back a bit, until she was tucked between his knees. Jareth hummed quietly, his nimble fingers carefully he freeing her hair from under the edge of the quilt, and smoothing it down her back. Finally picking up a section of her hair, he began to meticulously work the knots out, easing them loose with his fingers and the fine bristles of the brush. As he worked, Jareth felt along the familial link, amused by the strong feeling of confusion from Sarah, tempered with the bitter scent of sadness.

The quiet ticking of the clock, and scratching sound of the hairbrush were the only sounds in the room for several long minutes - but the silence was welcome by Sarah who sat numbly staring at the thick silken rug, while her fingers caressed the worn patches on Mr. Bun's ears. She knew she would be seeing Jareth today, but to have him come to her rooms and then seem to be perfectly content to sit and brush her hair, was astonishing. _'Why is he being so gentle? He was so angry with me earlier,'_ she wondered, marveling at how careful he was being as he worked at the knots in her hair. With each new section of hair he picked up, he would grasp the hair near her head, saving her from feeling the worst of the 'pulls' while he worked the strands free.

"You called me Precious...still," she finally whispered, half hoping he wouldn't hear her words, even though she knew with his animal senses, there would be no way he would miss them.

Smiling warmly at her as he worked, he chuckled softly, pleased that she noticed and yet did not seem to mind the endearment. "Yes. I did."

"Why?"

"Because you are, Sarah," he replied simply. Laying another smoothed fall of hair aside, he started to tease out the knots in another section, as Sarah fell silent once more. Through the link he could still feel confusion and sadness, the air around her now faintly smelling of candied roses - hope, the scent making his own heart beat warmly in his chest. Once the worst of the knots and fuzzy bits were smoothed, Jareth picked up the heavy fall of hair down her back and began to brush it, gently running the brush through the thick tresses, from the base of her head to the ends, enjoying both the silken feel of her hair running through his fingers and the glossy shine that was rising with each stroke.

Swallowing thickly, her voice wavered as she spoke. "Why are you here?"

Jareth sighed, continuing to work at the knots. "I would have peace between us, Sarah."

"I thought you were angry," she murmured, still wondering why he was being nice to her. Sarah nibbled her lip pensively as she sat there, her eyes flicking to the balcony door, mesmerized by the reflection of herself and Jareth. He looked so relaxed and at home on her sofa brushing her hair, yet at the same time, it gave her an odd sense of comfort.

When Jareth moved the brush up and let the firm bristles run along her scalp then down to the ends of her hair, she couldn't help but purr softly. The sensation was so delightful a quiet moan caught in her throat, while her eyes fell shut - leaving her to miss the pleased smile that curled Jareth's mouth. "

"Yes...I am angry. But I am angry _because_ you are precious to me, Sarah."

"Really?"

Fanning the glossy tresses over her back, Jareth let the hairbrush return to his own dresser, and gently stroked her hair with his fingertips, relishing the feel of it. _'This is the first time I've been able to touch her without her being skittish or angry,'_ he mused.

"Yes, really," he replied, turning her gently to face him. His fingers curled under her chin, tilting her head up. He hated seeing the purple smudges under her red swollen eyes. "Sarah, I need you to understand some things that I know I have said before but right now it is imperative that you fully see the truth. I am not angry because I hate you. Far from it. I am angry because I...care about you very much. I am angry because Rayvyn could have killed you - and that is not for selfish reasons, but because I am also angry at myself. I want to protect you, Precious...and I failed to protect you from him."

Her throat clicked as she tried to swallow, unable to bear the quiet regret in his eyes. Without thinking she reached up, her fingertips lightly caressing his cheek. "You didn't fail...you got there in time."

Sighing, Jareth gently grasped her hand, pulling it away from his cheek. He held her hand on his knee, his warm smile belied by the sadness in his eyes. "I nearly didn't, Sarah. Had I not felt the burn of the bond mark or if the charm on the necklace hadn't worked, I…" he said, his words trailing off as he shook his head. "It doesn't bear thinking of now, Precious. The point is, I was angry for multiple reasons, and all of them are directly linked to the fact that I _do_ care about you. I want to keep you safe. I _need_ to keep you safe. To ensure you are taken care of, educated...and happy."

A despondent wave rushed through the link, even as Sarah nodded. "I understand. You promised Father you'd take care of us."

Squeezing her hand gently, Jareth shook his head, frustration pinching his face, as an urgency crept into his tone. "No! No, Sarah… you do not yet understand. Initially, yes… it was because of your Father and because..." he sighed, running his hand through his hair and shaking his head in irritation, more so at himself than the young woman in front of him. "Honestly, at the start it was a thrill to have the 'girl who won' back under my power." Seeing her tense up, his fingers twined with hers, as his other hand came up, tenderly cupping her cheek. "But, that faded quickly, Sarah. I realized I really did care what happened to you and to Toby. Now, I want nothing more than to know you both are safe and happy. So to see you in danger, frightened and hurt…." he paused, his eyes flashing darkly as he looked off toward the balcony, before his eyes fell shut. "Precious, I wanted nothing more than to render Rayvyn naught but ash when I saw what he was going to do. I'm only sorry that he escaped before I could."

Releasing her cheek, Jareth opened his eyes, as Sarah looked away from him, hanging her head, a sense of hopelessness flooding through him. For several long moments she stared at their entwined hands, before squeezing his hand back. "You have a mark too?"

Silently, Jareth turned his hand over, revealing the small design on the inside of his wrist. Leaning forward, Sarah looked at it, fascinated by the miniature round labyrinth design. "It's...not like mine," she mused, tilting her head to examine the circular centre of the design, which was filled with a knotwork triskelion, instead of the horned sigil of the Goblin King. "I thought they'd be the same."

Content to let her look at the strange mark, Jareth shrugged slightly. "No one really knows what it should look like, Sarah. As far as I have been able to find out, no one has ever been in our situation before - bonded and marked without having consummated our relationship. For that matter, I have found no record of a reciprocal bonding mark existing."

"So...what...is that _my_ mark?" she asked, looking curiously at the mark, then up at him.

All Jareth could do was nod. "That is my suspicion."

"It's pretty," she murmured, lightly running her finger over it, then jumping as Jareth shuddered and hissed in a shuddering breath.

"Ye Gods!" he gasped, blinking in surprise at her, at the sudden rush of pleasure which flooded through him, his groin tightening fully in an instant.

Sarah couldn't help but grin at his reaction to the touch, before her eyes were drawn to the mark once more, only to blush as they flitted over the obvious bulge in his trousers. "If your mark is anything like mine, I'm guessing that felt pretty damn intense. Does it feel as good when you touch it, like mine does?"

Still trying to get control of his breathing and other more 'responsive' parts of his anatomy, Jareth gently removed his hand from hers, a pair of gloves with high cuffs appearing instantly upon his hands. Clearing his throat, he surreptitiously attempted to adjust his erection more comfortably, giving her a somewhat sheepish smile in return. "It does 'react' when I touch it, but not as strongly as... _that_."

Still grinning, Sarah blushed scarlet when her stomach chose that moment to gurgle loudly. The next moment her giggles ran wild when Jareth's stomach gave an accompanying growl that was far louder and longer than hers. Without missing a beat, Jareth glared down at his stomach. "That will be quite enough out of you, thank you!" he snapped, making Sarah laugh harder. While his stomach made no further comment, Sarah's decided to reply with another growling-gurgle, her cheeks flaming.

"I think it is best if we feed the beasties, Precious. It's no wonder, breakfast was hours ago and neither of us ate much."

Reaching over her head, Jareth snapped his fingers and a shimmering crystal appeared to float lazily to the top of the coffee table, where it burst. By the time the droplets evaporated, a large pizza, still steaming from the oven, appeared on the table.

"Wow!" Sarah gasped, then grinned at him before examining the pizza and breathing deep the thick scent of garlic, Italian spices and robust tomatoes. "Hmmm… that smells just like Cassano's!"

"That's because it is," Jareth replied, leaning around her and picking up a slice. "Now dig in before it gets cold."

Picking up a slice of her own, Sarah giggled again, then purred as she bit into it. "It's my favourite."

"I know...and for good reason...it's delicious," Jareth nodded, already half-way through his slice.

Sarah ate several bites, watching Jareth thoughtfully before finishing her slice. "How did you know?"

Jareth merely shrugged, then gave her a conspiratorial wink. "I may have heard from a little goblin what foods you like best."

"Would the goblin's name be Toby?"

"No comment. It is against the rules to rat out a goblin who was merely doing service to his King," Jareth quipped, picking up another slice with a grin.

Eating her second slice, Sarah frowned slightly. "So what… did you steal someone's pizza?"

"Perhaps… it was in the oven and had the toppings you prefer. I did leave payment if that is what you are worried about," he added, trying not to stare at her lips, as her tongue flicked out to lick up a smear of tomato sauce.

Unaware of being studied, Sarah beamed at him, the sight of her open smile making his heart thrum harder in his chest, warmth spreading through him. At the Halloween Ball she had smiled like that at him, and it made his heart fairly leap from his chest. To see her give such a smile freely after his caddish behaviour in the morning, was more than he ever dared hope for. He knew he'd still have to punish her, yet he harbored the hope that they could weather this disaster with the bond still intact - if not stronger.

"So...it's good to be King huh?"

Laughing, Jareth nodded, offering Sarah a nibblet of sausage from his slice. As she smiled at him and delicately took the bite from his fingertips, he purred, "You have _no_ idea."

**.·:*¨** **¨*:·. .·:*¨** **¨*:·..·:*¨** **¨*:·. .·:*¨** **¨*:·..·:*¨** **¨*:·. .·:*¨** **¨*:·.**

Looking at the pizza box, Sarah groaned. Even with she and Jareth both demolishing the pizza, it was still three-quarters full of small squares of pizza. "I'm stuffed and we have nearly a whole pizza left! How is that even possible?!"

Jareth chuckled, finishing off the last of his soda as he looked at the box. It was true, they had barely made a dent in the massive pizza, but it had been worth it. For the last half-hour, they had sat, having the most companionable meal he could remember having since Sarah and Toby joined the household. "I'd say we acquitted ourselves admirably, but the pizza clearly won this war."

With another groan, Sarah leaned back in her corner of the sofa and laughed, shaking her head. "We'll never fit that in the fridge...besides Mrs. Brown would ask too many questions if she found this downstairs."

"True," Jareth mused, a lazy smile curling the corner of his mouth upward. "Luckily, I have a solution that will actually work to both of our favour." Jareth snapped his fingers sharply. "Boggle!" he snapped, winking at Sarah.

A moment later there was a soft popping sound and a grey-green goblin appeared near his hand. The goblin was short, even by goblin standards, barely able to peer over the edge of the coffee table. Craning his head upward, he gave Sarah a grin filled with stained fangs - half of which seemed to be broken or on the verge of rotting out of his skull. _'Gods! I guess goblins don't know much about dental hygiene.'_

Glancing up at the soft voice that echoed through his head, Jareth bit back a laugh, then turned his attention to the little goblin. "Boggle… take this box of pizza to the castle hoard. Tell them it is a gift from the Champion."

Boggle looked at Sarah, his yellow eyes widening as he bobbed his head. "Oh...thank yous! We loves pizzas. S'good wit the black jam!"

Saran frowned, looking at Jareth her clarification. "Black jam?"

Jareth rolled his eyes, a broad grin making his pale eyes light up. "Vegemite. Apparently one of our wished aways several years was eating the vile paste on toast when she was collected. The goblins loved it. Now they each get a jar twice a year. Don't ask...but it's become something of a black-market monetary system for them." In the next instant, Jareth's expression hardened, narrowing on the small form who was eyeing the pizza with something akin to lust. "Why are you still here? Take the pizza box and get out!" he hissed.

Gulping the goblin nodded frantically, his claws scrabbling on the box, before he swung the lid shut. Boggle gripped the box, holding it atop the green and yellow tea cosy he was wearing as a hat. "Yes… yer Majesty. Iz goin." Boggle gave Sarah another toothy grin and bobbed up and down in an odd sort of curtsey-ish movement. "Thanks, Lady!" Then he vanished with a quiet 'farting' noise.

Unable to help herself, Sarah dissolved into a fit of giggles. Holding her aching stomach, she flopped bonelessly on the sofa, laughing until tears ran down her face. Jareth watched her, marvelling at the free way she laughed in that moment - her eyes shining with happy tears, while the hair he had so carefully brushed earlier, flowed over the back of the couch, twisting in thick ropes while she rocked with her laughter. The sight of her laughter sent a surge of warmth through him. _'I want to hear her laugh more often,'_ he mused, trying to commit the sound of her laughter to memory.

After several minutes of intermittent, snickering, Sarah calmed down once more. Tilting her head, she smiled at Jareth. "Sorry about that… it was just… he was just so...and the fart!" Giggling once more, Sarah wiped her eyes, while Jareth chuckled softly.

"I'm glad you find my subjects so amusing. Of course, you should know that they adore you, so to have 'the Lady' gift them such a treat, will only further cement their loyalty to you."

Tilting her head, Sarah looked at him, her green eyes growing serious. "So what...that was a political move?"

Surprised at her assertion, Jareth shook his head, squeezing her hand gently. "Not at all, Sarah. I gifted them the pizza on your behalf because it would make them happy - I'm not the beast you like to think I am, Precious. My subjects are hardy and thrive on rough treatment, but they also adore small treats. And for them, to have a gift from you is a boon they will not soon forget."

The room was silent for several long minutes, as Jareth felt the carefree happiness of the past few minutes fade.

"So... does this mean you're not going to punish me now for going to the party?" she muttered, restless fingers twisting the worn ear of her faithful stuffed rabbit. Glancing up at him under a veil of brunette hair, Sarah sighed."I didn't realize I was putting myself in danger."

Jareth sighed, his short cropped hair falling freely over his forehead as she shook his head. "No, Sarah. It doesn't work like that. And I think you know that, Precious."

"Oh…" she murmured, her finger now tracing the delicate stitching on her stuffed rabbit's vest.

Jareth's face fell as he watched her. Around her bloomed the stale smell of uncertainty, while despondence flooding through the familial link, where a moment before had been the warmth of happiness and delight. "Sarah…I've explained this. While I appreciate that you didn't know the danger that was possible, you deliberately disobeyed my instructions and it is _that_ which will be punished. Look at it this way, Precious….if the family of the King ignores his wishes, what message does that send his other subjects?"

The steady ticking of the mantel clock was the only sound, before Sarah finally sighed and nodded. "They would question why they should obey the crown either."

Smiling now, Jareth reached over and lightly took her hand in his, his thumb caressing her knuckles. "Exactly. It is a delicate balance that must be maintained, Sarah. And we both know that while many of my subjects are logical and thoughtful, my goblins are not the most… well… intelligent of creatures...for the most part at least. It would never do for them to find that you, my Champion, had disobeyed an order and were not punished for it. Without rules and the expectation that they will be obeyed or the transgressor will face punishment, chaos would reign." Sensing her despondency growing, he tried to change the subject. "Have you spoken to Angel today? How is she doing?"

Sarah sniffed, a single tear rolling down her nose to drip onto her bunny, leaving a dark pink smear on the satin lining of it's ear. Jareth realized his mistake too late, as the wave of despondency morphed into outright depression. "Her grandparents have her at their house and have forbidden the staff to put my calls through. They say it's all my fault. That I'm a bad influence on her."

Sighing, Jareth gave Sarah's hand a gentle squeeze. "I'll have a talk to them, Precious. We'll remedy the situation. You'll see."

"I don't see that there is much even you could do, Goblin King."

"I've been told that my powers of persuasion are excellent," he replied, winking at her. "And on the rare occasion that such powers don't work, there is always…." Twisting his hand, Jareth pulled a glittering golden crystal from the air, balancing it on his fingertips. "Magic."

"That's cheating, Jareth. You can't go around altering people's memories and stuff. It's not right." Sarah pulled her hand from his, tucking it into her lap as she turned away from him, her glistening eyes staring out the window, but not seeing the lovely gardens below. "It's not fair. I don't remember what happened, but I know I didn't do the things everyone believes."

"I believe you, Sarah," Jareth said, his tone soft. Giving her a gentle smile, he nodded. "Believe in me, Precious. We'll fix this - and we'll do it without having to move the stars."

Before Sarah could protest further, a crisp knock sounded at the partially open door, followed by Mr. Foster walking in. Surprised, Sarah looked up at him, wondering when he had arrived at the house. Since the day he had brought Sarah and Toby to the house, she had never seen him there again. Foster gave Jareth a curt nod, in a way that reminded Sarah of an abbreviated bow, his eyes hidden behind the dark glasses he wore. She didn't know much about him or what he did for Jareth, but based on the formality of his dress, and the fact that he had approached her with the guardianship contract, she assumed he handled some of Jareth's Aboveground legal affairs.

"Sorry to intrude, Sir...but as you anticipated, the local constabulary have arrived. They are in the parlor with your parents and wish to speak to you and Miss Sarah."

Sarah watched, vaguely disturbed by the speed with which the warm smile faded from Jareth's face, replaced with a hard, stony expression that exuded power and authority. Nodding at Foster, he rose, Sarah's hand firmly in his. "Come, Precious. It is time."

"But Jar….Gareth," she stammered, shaking her head and pulling back against his grip. "I'm not dressed appropriately. I can't see them like this."

Still holding the glittering crystal in his other hand, Jareth casually flipped it toward Sarah, making her gasp as it burst. With wide eyes she registered that Jareth had changed her into a simple pair of black slacks and a pink cashmere sweater. Jareth didn't seem the slightest bit concerned about changing Sarah or himself, as he was now wearing a dark grey suit instead of the casual jeans from earlier.

Waving her hand toward Mr. Foster, Sarah shook her head. "But he…" she began, only to have her words cut off by Jareth.

"Say nothing once we are downstairs, Sarah. Only answer questions asked of you and let Mr. Foster and myself handle everything else," he instructed her, his tone firm and officious, as he led her toward the door. With her hand still in his, the two of them followed Mr. Foster through the hall, then down the stairs to the front foyer. Once they reached the front hall, Jareth gave her hand a reassuring squeeze, his demeanor thawing briefly. "Trust me, Precious," he murmured, before releasing her hand. Mr. Foster walked into the formal parlor, pushing the French doors open for Jareth and Sarah.

"Sir, this is Detective Inspector Cross and Sergeant Mullen," Foster said

Jareth gave no sign of caring for Foster's introduction, as he guided Sarah into the room, his hand lightly resting on her lower back. Without a word, he seated her next to his mother, giving the High Queen a brief nod.

Trying not to panic, Sarah glanced at Titania, the Queen's brief smile doing nothing to assuage her fears. The older woman's slender fingers curled around Sarah's trembling hand, a show of strength the girl desperately needed in the face of what was to come. She could feel Oberon standing behind the sofa, as a reassuring weight around her. With his height and bearing, she had no doubt that just his mere presence would be enough to intimidate the officers sitting in simple arm chairs by the door. The younger of the two, wearing a stiff blue uniform, fidgeted with his cap upon his lap. Next to him sat a man in a slightly rumpled tweed suit, his ruddy cheeks doing nothing to soften the irritated expression upon his face. Taking his time, Jareth crossed the room and settled in his favourite black leather arm chair; one arm propped on the side of the chair, as he surveyed the two officers, as if daring them to speak first. The uniformed officer merely fidgeted, looking first at his hat, then at the floor, while the plain-clothes detective scowled at Jareth.

"Go on then," Jareth ordered imperiously, waving his hand toward the officers. Seeing the cranky glare from the inspector, Jareth arched an eyebrow, his stare steely and cold. "Well?"

"We're here due to your girl's responsibility for what happened last night," grumbled the inspector, standing up. The sergeant looked up at him, then stood as well, awkwardly clutching his hat.

"I see. And what is it that you think she did, hmm?" Jareth asked, the casual drawl of his tone at odds with his icy demeanor.

"We don't _think_ , Sir," the inspector snapped. "We know what she did, and once our investigation is complete she'll be duly charged for them! She stole a car, and while under the influence of drugs and alcohol, she wrecked it, causing injury to her passenger, as well as property damage."

Hearing the list of charges, Sarah feel strange hollow feeling settle in the pit of her stomach, even as her throat twitched like she would be sick any moment. Eyes wide, she glanced at Titania, who gave her hand a gentle squeeze. When she looked at Jareth, she was surprised by the cool, calm expression on his face, despite the seriousness of the charges.

Jareth could see the stricken look on Sarah's face from the corner of his eye, her emotions flowing through the familial link in a wave of panic and fear. As much as he wanted to acknowledge her fear and soothe her, he could not let them see any hint of weakness. "I see. Well those _are_ rather serious charges _if_ they can be proven."

The inspector's eyes lit up with dark glee at Jareth's words. "We wouldn't be here if we didn't have evidence. Her fingerprints were found on the wheel of the car, proving she was driving."

"Actually, all that proves is that she touched the steering wheel. What proof do you have that she was driving the car," Oberon intoned, his deep voice sonorous in the quiet of the room.

Sergeant Mullen swallowed heavily, bobbing his head slightly before he spoke, "Well...um… we have witnesses at the party who state that they saw Sarah give alcohol to the younger girl, then put her friend into the car with the help of another young man." Giving Sarah an apologetic smile, his green eyes seemed to plead with her as he spoke. "Would you like to tell us what happened? Cooperation with our investigation might be viewed in a positive light by the magistrate."

"I...I don't know. I don't remember what happened after Angel came back from the kitchen with the cups of punch. We danced a bit, then I started to feel sick. That's all I remember," Sarah said, hating the pitiful sound of her voice. Seeing the inspector's cold glare, Sarah cringed back toward Titania, then glanced at Jareth hoping for some show of reassurance - and found none. Jareth continued to watch the inspector, his pale eyes narrowing as the inspector and sergeant spoke.

Near the fireplace, the inspector harrumphed, wrinkling his nose as he shook his head. "Well your friend was intoxicated and drugged."

Frowning, Sarah ran a hand over her face. "No...that was me…I…."

"You admit you did it?" the inspector cut in, looking pleased that she had confessed, his piggish face twisting into a victorious grin.

"That is _not_ what she said. I will thank you not to put words in the girl's mouth," Jareth snapped at the inspector, his tone deadly. Turning his attention to Sarah, he ignored the way she flinched at his sharp look. "Sarah...don't say another word until our lawyer arrives."

The inspector glowered at Jareth, sneaking irritated looks at Sarah, while the Sergeant fidgeted with his hat, crimping it in his tight grip. While Jareth looked stern and in control, Sarah could have sworn she felt anger radiating from him. In the next instant he snapped his fingers sharply and stood. Glancing at the officers, Sarah expected to see them react, yet they seemed frozen in space. Titania patted her hand gently, as Jareth plucked a shimmering crystal from the air.

"Drake!" he barked. A moment later a ruddy face appeared in the crystal.

"Yes, Sire?" replied Mr. Drake, his wide-set blue eyes barely visible from where Sarah sat.

"As expected, the local police have shown up. Has our 'friend' finished examining Sarah's blood?"

"Blood...but…how did you..." Sarah began, only to be silenced by a stern look from Jareth and a gentle shake of the head from Titania.

Mr. Drake didn't seem to hear her, his red face nodding in the crystal. "Yes, Sire… She had alcohol in her system, but not enough to have impaired her driving - _if_ she was indeed the driver. She also had something called GhB in her system. From my understanding, it is not the sort of drug that a young woman is likely to take voluntarily."

Jareth's attention turned to Sarah once more, the sharpness of his gaze demanding confirmation of Drake's words. Nodding, Sarah forced herself to speak. "No, Jareth… I've only ever had a sip or two of champagne, that's it. GHB is a date rape drug Aboveground."

Jareth's frown deepened. "Use our contacts in the police force in London. I want details on that car and who the other person was," he growled at Drake, who nodded before the crystal popped, releasing time. Turning toward the inspector, who stepped back, clearly wondering how Jareth managed to go from sitting in his chair across the room, to be standing in front of him. "So tell me, officer...were there other fingerprints on the car and steering wheel?" Jareth demanded.

The inspector growled, while the sergeant looked uncomfortable, swallowing audibly again before nodding. "Yes, Mr. Rex...two other sets were found. We believe those are from the people who were helping your girl here distribute the drugs."

"Distributing drugs?! I never...I wouldn't…. " Sarah gasped, rising to her feet. "Gareth...I swear…"

"Sarah...sit!" Jareth ordered her, as his mother pulled Sarah back down onto the sofa. When Sarah was once more silent, her head in her hands, huddled next to Titania, Jareth glared at the inspector and stepped toward him. The inspector's triumphant smirk faltered as he stepped back from the powerful man giving him a cold, calculating stare. "Perhaps it would interest you to know that Sarah had been drugged with GhB, so while her fingerprints may have been on the steering wheel, it is highly unlikely she was the driver," Jareth hissed, a wicked smirk curling his lips at the way the inspector's face fell. "Where else did you find her fingerprints?"

Looking at his notes, the sergeant licked his lips nervously. "Well, we did find her fingerprints on the inside of the back window."

"And where there any other fingerprints in the back?" Jareth demanded, still glaring at the inspector who was no longer willing to look him in the eye.

"No Sir. To be honest, that was one of the things that had our forensics people puzzled. Sarah's fingerprints are only in two places on the steering wheel, not smudged like they would be if she drove and the only other fingerprints in the backseat belong to her friend Angel - and they were on the seat belt next to the window where we found Sarah's fingerprints."

"Shut up, Mullen!" ordered the Inspector, moving away from Jareth and cuffing the sergeant.

A slow smile broke over Jareth's face, as he returned to his chair. Arching an eyebrow, he nodded warmly at the younger officer. 'Do continue, Sergeant. Were Sarah's fingerprints found anywhere on the seat belt?"

"Um...No, Sir. They were not," he replied, giving a sheepish nod of his head. "Just on the inside of the window and the door."

"And am I to assume that you do not have an explanation for how Sarah's fingerprints could be on the inside of the window and seat belt, but no where else in the back seat?" Jareth asked, casually leaning on the arm of the chair and propping his chin upon two curled fingers. He could feel Sarah's panic ease as he took control of the situation - replaced by a hint of confusion and a pleasing mix of awe. Pinning the Sergeant with a questioning look, he smiled as the younger officer shook his head, looking at the floor rather than at Jareth. "And what kind of car was it? Manual or automatic?"

"Manual," muttered the Inspector, his voice low and gravelly.

Blinking, Sarah gawped at the Inspector, then at Jareth. "But I don't know how to drive a manual. I haven't even driven an automatic since I've been in England."

Sarah's words had the effect Jareth hoped for. Both the Inspector and the Sergeant looked flustered. The Sergeant flipped helplessly through his notes, as if looking for something that would help, while the Inspector jammed his fedora back on his head.

"Ahem...yes...well...I think we've taken enough of your time for a preliminary interview. Just … well, don't leave town without informing the station of your location, in case we have more questions. We'll be in touch with additional questions once our investigation progresses," the Inspector snapped irritability.

Jareth rose from his chair, tugging at the cuff of his shirt under the edge of his suit jacket. When he was pleased with it, he fixed the Inspector with a cold glare. "I suggest that you do a _thorough_ job of it. It would not do to have to give a very public apology to one of the richest men in the UK."

**.·:*¨** **¨*:·. .·:*¨** **¨*:·..·:*¨** **¨*:·. .·:*¨** **¨*:·..·:*¨** **¨*** **:·. .·:*¨** **¨*:·.**

The halls of Tywellyn House were silent when Sarah left her room at 8:50 that evening, to make her way down to Jareth's study. When the the officers had left, Jareth instructed her to go to her room and stay there until dinner, stating that he was going into the city to check on further investigations about the night before, and where Rayvyn may have gone. Alone in her rooms, she spent rest of the day sprawled miserably on her bed attempting to read - and failing, while her mind raced over Rayvyn's motives and just what Jareth might do to Rayvyn when he was found. At 3 minutes to 9, Sarah paused outside the study door, glancing at her watch. Sighing, she mused over the fact that the best parts of her day were having dinner with Toby in the comforting warmth of the kitchen, and oddly, the relaxed lunch she shared with Jareth in her room.

Sarh counted down the seconds, until the mantel clock in Jareth's study began to chime the hour, the sonorous 'bongs' echoing out into the hall. On the fifth chime, Sarah turned the doorknob and pushed the door open.

As usual, the room was lit by the gentle glow of the various lamps, and the flickering of the golden flames dancing in the fireplace, to ward away the chill of the late fall air. Jareth stood at the window behind his desk, his hands folded behind his back as he looked out. His suit jacket was draped across the arm of an easy chair by the fire. On the nearby sofa, Titania sat, watching her son.

"Oh...I'm sorry. I thought were we meeting like usual," she muttered, her hand still on the doorknob. "I didn't mean to interrupt."

Jareth's golden predatory eyes narrowed as he looked out over the yard, his senses heightened to the point that he could taste the trepidation with which Sarah entered the study. She was nervous, but resigned, something Jareth was surprised to feel, but relieved by. _'She must be coming to terms with things better than expected, which will make what must be done far easier in some ways,'_ he mused. Even with that knowledge, he closed his eyes, forcing the familial link shut as far as he dared, to dampen the feel of her emotions, while shielding his thoughts to prevent any further 'leakage'. _'The last thing I need tonight is Sarah 'hearing' my thoughts during this punishment.'_

"You are not interrupting, Sarah. You are right on time, in fact. The High King and Queen will be here as… witness, this evening," Jareth replied, turning around to look at the young woman by the door, then gesturing toward his desk and the open punishment book laying in the middle of the leather blotter. "Come in and sit down."

Biting her lip, Sarah approached the desk and sat down in the big leather chair, her hands clenched in her lap. Looking at Titania, she felt her face flush warmly at the solemn look on the Queen's face, and Oberon's, as he stood behind his wife, one large hand upon her slender shoulder. Sarah glanced up at Jareth as he stepped toward the desk, his fingers deftly removing the sleek grey glove covering his left hand. Knowing what was coming, Sarah cringed. "I'm sorry, Jareth," she murmured.

"As am I, Sarah," he replied, his words quiet, but not unkind. Laying the glove on the blotter, he picked up the sharp blade sitting in the ornate holder. "I should have warned you that Rayvyn had been on the grounds, but I did not want to frighten or worry you while I was gone. However, while my choice not to fully inform you may have led to your foolish decision, the fact of the matter is you disobeyed a direct order of your head of house...and your King. This cannot be ignored."

Sarah hung her head, staring at her clenched hands in her lap, the uncomfortable prickling sensation burning at the edges of her eyes. Seeing her distress, Jareth reached down, tenderly caressing her shoulder. "Sarah...Precious… do you remember why I must punish you when you disobey?"

"Because you are my King," she whispered, her voice cracking as the first of the burning tears rolled silently down her cheek, then dripped onto her hand.

"In part, yes, but there is more to it. You're forgetting the most important part. I _care_ about you, fact is, when I tell you _not_ to do something, there is always a reason for it and being who I am in the Underground, and the fact that you are one of my family, more often than not that reason I tell you _not_ to do something is because I want to keep you safe. If disobeying me means you leave yourself in unsafe situations, I must do all I can to discourage that behaviour. I do this not out of anger or a desire to be mean, but because I care and want you to learn from the mistake. Never forget that, Precious."

Nodding her head, Sarah sniffed,unable to bring herself to look up at him. Out of the corner of her eye she watched as he prepared to cut his palm, only to frown as Jareth's slender fingers held the blade firmly, while presenting the carved handle to her. "What?"

"Go on. Take the blade, Precious."

Sarah's head snapped up at that, her green eyes wide and questioning. "What? No...Jareth… I can't…."

His expression was firm as he nodded, still offering her the handle. "Sarah, we've been down this road. Clearly you have not yet realized that when you disobey, it is not just you who feels the consequences."

Tears rolled freely down her cheeks now, leaving glistening trails. Still she shook her head in protest. "No, please. I can't...can't hurt you. Please, don't ask me to do that."

"You will, Sarah...because you must. Perhaps this will help you remember that you are part of this family and even though I am the head of the family, what you do not only reflects upon me, it causes me pain as well. So, today, you will _physically_ cause me pain. Now do as I say. Take. The. Blade."

Sniffing louder, Sarah obeyed, reaching out and lightly grasping the handle. Jareth lowered his palm, in front of her, silent and stern in his expression. "Jareth…" she murmured, looking up at him, her green eyes glistening. _'Please...I don't want to hurt you… ever,'_ her words whispered in his mind.

"Go on, Precious. I can hold time and we will sit here until you do this, so you are far better off getting it over with so we can move on," he replied, his tone quiet and calm.

Sarah swallowed against the lump in her throat and tightened her hold on the blade. "I'm sorry," she whispered, then in one swift, firm movement, she sliced a cut into the center of his palm, flinching at the sight of the cut as it began to immediately pool with crimson drops.. "I'm sorry."

"You know what to do," Jareth murmured, nodding toward the quill that lay upon the blotter next to her punishment book.

Sighing, Sarah picked up the quill and carefully dipped the tip into the small well of blood in Jareth's palm, then leaned over her book and began to write in thoughtful script:

_**Infraction:** _ _Went to a party although I was told not to leave the house._

_**Reason:** _ _I let myself be swayed by my friend and thought going to the party couldn't possibly cause any problem._

When she had finished writing in the book, Sarah offered Jareth the quill, only to frown in confusion when he refused to take it. "This time, you will write out the punishment as well, Sarah," he said quietly. "Tell me, from your lessons on Underground culture, what is the standard punishment for endangering the Crown?"

Sarah gulped and looked up at Jareth with wide eyes as she shook her head. "I don't know what you mean?"

"Answer the question, Precious. We have studied this information, so I know that you remember the answer," he demanded quietly.

"The punishment in cases where no physical damage was incurred by the Crown, range from 20 to 100 lashes with the scourge," Sarah murmured, her gaze falling back to the book on the desk, the pristine cream page now marred with red words that seemed to leap from the page.

"Indeed." Looking up at his father, Jareth gave a brief nod of his head. "As High King, what punishment do you wish to hand down, Father?"

Gasping softly, Sarah looked from Titania to Oberon, feeling more tears prickling at her eyelids. Oberon looked at her, his pale eyes quiet, yet stern. She had assumed that Jareth would state the punishment as he usually did, to hear Oberon dictate it, felt more like he was sentencing a prisoner.

Jareth arched an eyebrow as he glanced down at the young woman sitting at his desk, surprised by the sudden wave of nausea he felt from Sarah, despite dampening the effects of the familial link as much as he dared.

"Given the situation and her youth, I would say that 20 lashes would be sufficient to drive the lesson home," the elder King replied, his expression giving no hint of softness.

Sarah bit her lip to force back a whimper, her head hanging once more as tears dripped into her lap. She felt Jareth's hand lay warmly upon her shoulder, but didn't move. "Write the punishment in the book, Sarah." Still sniffling, she picked up the quill once more and dipped the sharp tip just barely into the pool of blood in his palm, before writing the punishment in the allotted column. "Jareth...I….I can't take that much….please...don't," she whispered, crying freely as she looked up at him, her green eyes pleading for leniency.

Pulling a crystal from the air, Jareth ran it along the cut on his palm, healing it until it was no longer visible. "I know, Sarah," he replied, turning his hand over once more and holding it out to her. "You're just going to have to trust me, Precious."

A quiet whimper squeaked in her throat as she put her hand in his, her knees trembling. Rising, she willed her wobbly legs to hold her up, following Jareth toward the chair that she usually leaned over to have her punishments. Instead of leaving her at the chair, Jareth led her to the sofa where Titania was sitting, before releasing her hand. "Sit, Sarah."

Frowning, she sat numbly next to Jareth's mother, shaking her head at him. "I...I don't understand."

"You will," was his cryptic reply, as he began to loosen his tie. Slipping his waistcoat off, he draped it over his suit jacket, before pulling his tie from around his collar, the silk making a faint rustling sound as it slid free, to be dropped upon the growing pile of clothing.

"What...what are you doing? " Sarah asked, blinking owlishly at him.

Jareth said nothing. Sarah watched as his fingers deftly worked the buttons of his dress shirt. One by one he freed the small pearl buttons, revealing a smoothly muscled chest and the sigil of office which was ordinarily hidden under his shirt. She felt a wave of heat rise to her face at the sight of his bare chest, until he turned away from her to drape the shirt upon the pile. Scattered across his back were fine thin lines, aged scars that were barely visible. As she tilted her head, pondering the scars, Oberon stepped from behind the sofa. Sarah's eyes widened seeing the wicked looking flogger in his hand. The handle was thick and bound with strips of black leather; as he walked, Oberon seemed to weigh the flogger in his hand, the falls hanging low to lightly brush his knees with each step. It was the falls of the flogger which made Sarah's heart clench in her chest - each one was made up of finely braided hemp cord, embedded with small bits of bindi-cord. Jareth had shown her one when she asked about a punishment during a history lesson. The hemp cord would be painful enough, but the addition of the bindi-cord with it's tiny hooked barbs of stinging bindi's, was designed to increase the pain of the person being punished.

Jareth nodded at his Father, then stood facing the fireplace, baring his back, as his hands rested lightly on the mantel. It wasn't until that moment that the full realization of what was about to happen struck home to Sarah. "Jareth no!" she cried out, attempting to launch herself from the sofa, while Titania held her back.

Calmly, Jareth peered over his shoulder at her, a sense of desolation in his pale eyes. "Would you really wish dishonor me further, Sarah?" he murmured, his voice sad.

"No...it's not that... it's just…."

"Then stay silent, Sarah," Jareth instructed her with a disapproving shake of his head. "You are unable to take the punishment as chosen by the High King, therefore as your Head of House, it falls to me to accept it."

"That's not fair!" Sarah protested, cringing at the petulant whine that had crept into her voice.

"But that is the way it is, Sarah. Now, either stay silent or I will have no choice but to gag you. Let's see if you can actually obey an order for a change, hmmm?" he replied, his words taking on a crisp edge, as he looked back at the fireplace.

Oberon moved closer, his hand gently resting on his son's shoulder. Leaning in, he whispered, "Are you sure about this, my boy?"

"Yes, Father. She must learn and punishing her doesn't seem to be getting the message across. Perhaps this will be the motivation she needs to remember the lesson."

Nodding, Oberon stepped back and gave the flogger several light flicks. Sarah looked aghast at the sight before her, only to jump and cover her cry with her hands as the first lash stroke fell. There was wicked swish when Oberson swung the flogger, followed by a loud crack when it landed. Sarah's stomach lurched, as she watched red lines bloom across Jareth's back. Despite the bleeding lines, Jareth didn't even flinch. Dispassionately, Oberon shook out the falls, then brought his arm back once more. Another wicked whistling sound echoed in the room, followed by yet another loud cracking sound - as more crimson trails blossomed across Jareth's pale flesh. For every drop of blood that beaded and rolled over the porcelain skin, Sarah shed ten tears to match it. Each crack of the scourge made her heart falter and her tears fall faster, until with the tenth she could no longer stand it.

As Oberon brought his arm up for the eleventh stroke, Sarah broke free of Titiania's firm hand and launched herself at the High King. Grabbing his wrist, she pulled at it, halting its movement. "Please….Please Sire...no… I beg you! Stop! Me...it's me who should bear the punishment! Not Jareth. He was trying to protect me. Please...please...stop. Punish me if you must but don't hurt him any more!"

"Sarah!" Jareth hissed, looking at her over his bloodied shoulder. "Be still, girl!"

"No...I can't Jareth. Don't you understand that? I can't. It's not fair for you to take the punishment. It belongs to me! I disobeyed. Not you!"

Oberon caught his son's eye, noting the relieved expression that briefly shown within. _'She will make a wonderful queen someday,'_ he mused, then turned to the girl, his own expression steely. "Are you quite sure that you wish to share the punishment, Sarah?"

"Yes, Sire. Please."

Nodding, Oberon held out the scourge to the young woman before him. "Fine. You shall bear the remainder of the punishment - only _after_ you have given him three full strokes of your own."

Sarah blanched, shaking her head and taking a step back from the High King and the vicious flogger. "What? No...I don't want to hurt him. That's the point...not to hurt him anymore."

"I'm sorry, Sarah, but the fact is, you already _have_ hurt him. Do this, and he will bear no more pain from your transgression," Oberon replied, his words as firm and sure as his expression.

From his position in front of the fireplace, Jareth felt regret and sorrow flood the familial line from Sarah. For a moment he thought she would back down, then his heart swelled with pride when she nodded at his Father and reached for the scourge.

"Three strokes, then I share the punishment?" she asked, seeking a binding promise from the King.

Oberon smiled and inclined his head. "You have my word, Sarah." He stepped back behind the sofa, his hand resting gently on his wife's shoulder, while Sarah gave the scourge an experimental flick. Glancing at her once more, Jareth nodded.

"Strike true, Sarah. Don't falter. And don't pull the stroke at the last moment, or you'll cause more damage than you would if you hit me properly," he instructed her quietly.

Blinking back tears, Sarah nodded helplessly, her hand shaking. "I don't want to hurt you, Jareth."

"I know, Precious. Nor I you."

Sarah took a deep breath, fighting back the urge to shut her eyes as she swung the flogger with all her strength. The scourge whistled through the air and landed sharply against Jareth's shoulder, making him hiss through his teeth at the fresh burst of stinging lines that sprung up on his skin. As instructed, she had delivered a full blow, the force less than his Father's, but the pain no less significant. The crimson lines flowed slowly down his back, leaving glistening trails across the pale flesh. A moment later Sarah's second stroke fell, the vicious falls licking across his other shoulder. When the final blow landed, Jareth could not hold back the a low groan. The barbed bindi's dug deep into the tender flesh over his spine, leaving bleeding tracks that made his shoulders tremble with every breath, as the barbs tugged on the open wound. Behind him he heard the dull thud of the flogger handle hitting the floor, then the open sobbing of Sarah as she rushed toward him.

"I'm sorry...so sorry…. Tell me...how to make it right...I want to… please let me," she cried, wrapping her arms around him. The feel of her body pressed against his back was both heavenly and agonizing, as the material of her shirt ground the bindi's that had been left in his skin, forcing them deeper into the ripped flesh.

Hissing, Jareth turned in her arms, so that she was hugging his chest, his own arms wrapping around the sobbing woman who was clinging to him.

"We shall leave you to deal with the consequences of Sarah's promise, Jareth," Oberon said quietly, taking Titania's hand and leading her toward the door. Jareth caught his Mother's eye as she followed Oberon toward the door, relief showing clearly on her face. She nodded briefly at him, before the two of them disappeared through the heavy wooden door.

When the study door clicked shut once more, leaving them alone, Jareth sighed, gently kissing the top of Sarah's head. "You must let go of me, Precious. We are not yet done with our business for this evening," he murmured, flinching as her hand touched one of the open cuts upon his back.

Stepping back from him, Sarah scrubbed a hand across her wet eyes, her green eyes red-rimmed as she looked at him. The sight of her tears, shed for him, with his own blood smeared across her cheek, left Jareth speechless; while the primal part of him that held the bond roared it's approval. Stunned, Jareth reached out to caress her cheek, the tears having left lines through his blood. The sight nearly undid the last of his resolve to wait until she was fully ready to accept the claim on her own terms, but her next words spoke to his rational side.

"Please Jareth...let me take care of your back first. That has to hurt. I can't believe you...you did that...for me," she whispered, then dissolved once more into tears, her entire body shaking, while a rush of sorrow flooded through him through the link.

Gently Jareth wrapped his arms around her, hugging her close once more. When her tears slowed again, he led her toward the sofa and nudged her to sit. "I did it, because I care for you, Sarah. I don't know what more I can do before you will believe me. But if it makes you feel better, you can tend to my back, before accepting your part of the punishment." Twisting his hand slightly, Jareth dropped a crystal upon the coffee table. In an instant a bowl of cool water appeared next to a stack of soft linen towels. Laying on a small tray were several sizes of tweezers, next to an empty black bowl. "You'll need to pluck the bindi's out one by one, then wipe down the cuts. Once you have done that, the small purple pot contains a salve that will heal the cuts," Jareth explained, easing himself onto the footstool in front of Sarah.

Nodding, Sarah picked up the tweezers, her other hand cool against his back, as she started to pluck the tiny black and gold bindi's from his skin. Each time she pulled one free, she felt Jareth flinch and heard the sharp intake of breath. "I see now, why the bindi's are used as part of the scourge. They prolong the pain," she murmured, her voice cracking once more, while a fresh wave of tears made her vision blurry. Jareth said nothing as she worked, merely growling or hissing when the pain reared it's head. When the bindi's were finally removed, Sarah carefully dampened a towel in the water and began to dab at the cuts, cringing at the way Jareth gripped his own knees until his knuckles were white. "I would have thought you could heal these cuts like you do the cut on your hand."

"Unfortunately, no. Since these cuts were inflicted as part of a punishment, the scourge used is enchanted. The damage must heal naturally. That is part of the punishment itself."

Gently working on another cut, Sarah traced her finger lightly over a faded scar. "Is that what these scars are from? Old punishments?"

Shivering at the feel of her finger tracing the scar, Jareth nodded. "Yes," he replied, his voice dull and quiet now.

"What did you do? Um...that is...if you don't mind me asking...I..." Sarah mumbled, as she started to dab the salve over the cuts, relieved by the way the seeping blood stopped the moment the salve touched the open slices.

"It's okay, Sarah. I've told you, you can ask me anything," Jareth sighed quietly, then purred as the salve began to numb the cuts."I have taken two beatings with a magical scourge at Father's hands since I reached adulthood - both of them to protect a woman I loved."

In shock, Sarah paused, gawking at the lines of cuts scattered across his back while not seeing them at all. _'Love… he loves me? That's why he did this?!'_

Hearing her thoughts within his own mind, Jareth dropped his head lower, hiding his smile from her view. "The first, was to protect Mother. I had disobeyed a direct order from Father, and drawn her into it with me - it nearly resulted in a war. Father did not yet know that Mother was with child, but I could feel the other heartbeat. So I begged him to let me take the full punishment. And well….you just witnessed the second time."

With her cheeks flushing hotly, Sarah quickly finished dabbing the salve over the last of the cuts. "Um… there is nothing to bandage these with."

Jareth turned on the stool and snapped his fingers, cleaning away the first aid items he had given her. "No, they cannot be bandaged, but it will be fine. I'll stay shirtless the rest of the evening and sleep on my stomach tonight. By morning they will have crusted over enough that I can wear a silk undershirt, which will protect them from my clothing until they heal further."

"Oh… um...good," Sarah mumbled, nervously fidgeting with the towels she had draped across her lap. "Will my cuts have to heal like that too?"

Tilting his head, Jareth gave her a puzzled look, then smiled when he grasped her meaning. "No, Precious. I will not be using a scourge on you. You have not reached the age of Fae adulthood, nor have you finished your change. A scourge would be far too harsh."

"But… I promised Oberon….."

Jareth silenced her with a gentle finger across her lips. "Hush, Sarah. You will bear your share of the punishment, just not with a scourge. What will happen now is back between us, as family… and… as bonded mates, because like it or not, that is still what we are. Are you ready to fulfill your promise?"

Swallowing heavily, Sarah tried desperately to ignore the butterflies that swooped wildly in her middle. "If you aren't using the scourge...what are you going to use? Will I have marks? Will it cut me too? I don't know if…"

With a quiet smile, Jareth replaced his finger upon her lips. "So many questions. Let me explain, Precious and your questions will be answered if you'd only give me a moment." Sarah's cheeks flushed pink as she nodded sheepishly. Sitting back on the stool, Jareth shook his head, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I have said I will not use a scourge on you, but this is a punishment - it must be done in such a way that it will make the proper impact upon you. Therefore I will not be using my slipper this time. I will be using a cane, so yes, you will have marks, but there will be no breaking of the skin. You will accept 10 full strokes with the cane, then the books will be balanced."

"Ten? But… you took ten, then I had to give you three more. There should be seven left," she protested, feeling her stomach clench at the thought of ten full strokes with a cane. She had only seen a cane twice in Jareth's study, when he had made her choose what her punishment would be. The very thought of being struck with one made her feel sick.

Shaking his head, Jareth gently brushed hair back from her face. "No, Precious. The three strokes you gave me were the payment for interrupting the punishment designated by the Crown. There are ten more to be taken, if you truly wish to share the punishment." He could smell her fear, a pungent, vinegar scent that surrounded him. "Trust me, Sarah. I will not harm you."

Sarah gave a bitter laugh. "You want to hit me with a cane, how can you say you won't harm me?"

Taking the towel from her lap, Jareth gently rubbed her cheek, cleaning away his blood. "Believe it not, Sarah... I could give you 100 or more strokes with the cane and never actually harm you, much less hurt you. In fact, I could do it in such a way that you would be squirming with need by the time I was through." Amused by the stubborn look of disbelief she gave him, Jareth couldn't help but chuckle. "Someday, you can ask me to prove it to you, but tonight is not that time. For tonight, just understand that there is a difference between hurting someone and causing them actual harm. Harm leaves long-term damage, hurt is temporary. In the case of punishment, even temporary pain can cement a lesson and help someone grow. So yes, I will cane you tonight. And yes, it will hurt. And yes, I suspect you may hate me a bit as it is happening. But know this, Precious...I am _not_ going to harm you. And I am not striking you out of anger. And believe it or not, what I am going to do, I do out of love - as hard as that may be for you to believe." Rising, he pulled a cane from the umbrella stand where he kept it, his slender fingers trailing up and down the rod, feeling for any nick or weakness that could injure Sarah. Finding none, he stood next to the heavily padded arm chair that Sarah usually chose to bend over for her punishments.

Sarah was silent for several long moments, her eyes upon her own hands as they fidgeted in her lap. "I understand, Jareth."

"Good girl. Now, because of what is required, we will do things a little differently tonight. Your jeans are too heavy and would offer more protection than should be afforded for punishment - when you consider I accepted the scourge against bare flesh."

Feeling her cheeks burn, Sarah nodded and stood, her fingers falling to the button of her jeans. Unable to to look at him, she stared at the floor as she unfastened her jeans and started to push them down.

"Sarah? What are you doing?"

She stopped with her jeans open and half-way down her hips, her face burning hotter at the intense look from Jareth. "Um… taking my jeans down? That's...that's what you wanted, right? So I'd feel the full impact?" Seeing his quiet smile, she felt her face seem to glow with heat.

The sweet and sour scent of her embarrassment amused him, but not as much as the undercurrent of desire that tickled his senses, making his primal inner-self howl for it's mate once more. "Not tonight, Precious. Some other time, perhaps," he chuckled, then offered her a pink crystal. "However, this crystal _will_ adjust your clothing to offer you… coverage, without affording you any unnecessary 'protection' from the sting." Sarah looked from Jareth's smile, to the glittering crystal. Reaching out, she hesitated, pulling her hand back. "Go on, Sarah. I promise, I will not take liberties. You are safe with me."

Shutting her eyes she grasped the crystal, feeling a gentle warmth wash over her skin, before noticing a cool sensation on her legs. The scent of rain and musk surrounded her as she looked down. She felt the heat in her cheeks flame again, seeing that she was wearing one of Jareth's shirts, similar to the sleeping shirt she had taken from his room. _'Oh God….'_ she moaned inwardly. _'For the scent to be this strong, he'd have to have worn it recently.'_ As she moved to look at him, the silk of his shirt brushed across her nipples, causing them to tighten into puckered buds, that pressed insistently against the thin material. Gasping at the sensation, she felt her cheeks heat further, realizing she was only wearing her knickers and Jareth's shirt - nothing else.

Jareth patted the padded back of the arm chair and nodded encouragingly at her. "Lean over the back tonight, it will give you more support. You can brace yourself with your hands on the seat." Tilting his head, Jareth watched as she bent over the chair, the feel of her embarrassment and fear, warring with the faint scent of arousal.

"What about a safeword?" she asked, from behind the fall of dark hair that hid her flaming face from view.

"I see Angel has been educating you about some other 'adult' matters, hmm?" Jareth chuckled, shaking his head.

Sarah bit her lip at the laughter in his voice. "I...um… well…."

"Precious, I've told you, if you have questions you are always welcome to ask me and I will always answer you honestly," Jareth replied, his hand warm as he laid it against her lower back. "True, safewords have their place between consenting adults when they are 'playing' for enjoyment...both in the Above and in the Underground, however, when it comes to matters of punishment, safewords do not apply. It would render a punishment ineffective if you could decide when you have had enough. You will just have to trust me not to give you more than you can handle, Sarah."

Trying to control her breathing, Sarah nodded. "Yes, Sir…" she mumbled, then froze when she heard what she had said.

' _Please don't let him notice,'_ Jareth heard her moan within his mind. Unseen by Sarah, he bit back a smile at her verbal slip, then lightly laid the cane across her bum. The cool rattan made her tremble, a faint gasp slipping past her lips.

"Remember to breathe in when the stroke hits, Sarah...it makes it easier to handle, but don't move from this position. I don't want to have to start over."

Silently she nodded, her hands flat on the seat of the chair. Jareth tilted his head, admiring the way the silk of his shirt skimmed over the curve of her bum, covering her, but at the same time highlighting the shape of her bum. Shaking his head, he growled at himself. _'Keep your mind on your task! This is for punishment...not pleasure!'_ Drawing the cane back, he brought it down in a swift arc, the thin rod whistling through the air before it landed with a crack against her bum.

Sarah yelped when a sudden line of fire seemed to burst to life across her bum. She could feel the pressure of the cane, the line stinging and throbbing deeply beneath it. Jareth held the cane still until she drew in a deep shuddering breath and slowly let it go, before striking her again. The second blow was just as hard, landing beside the first with precision. Just as the first strike stung, this one burned like she was being stung by a thousand bees. The pain of the second strike took her breath away. Panting softly, she fought to breathe slowly, gradually relaxing once more - only to grunt, trying to stifle her cry when the third strike landed. Gasping, her fingers gripped the cushion as she fought to stay still, the three lines across her bum throbbing and burning like electrified lines. Breathing through the pain, she was only dimly aware of the tears rolling down her cheeks and dripping onto the leather seat.

Then the fourth strike landed, slightly crossing the third in a way that made her fight not to scream, her mind berating her to stay silent and not wake Toby.

Watching Sarah's arms shake as she fought to stay still, Jareth paused, then reached out and tenderly caressed her back. Sarah gave a choked sob at the caress, a shudder running through her. "I know it hurts, Sarah. That is the point to punishment. I need you to remember this pain. Commit it to memory, so you won't forget the penalty for disobeying," he murmured gently. "And there is no reason to stay silent, Precious. Scream if you want. No one will hear you, save me."

When the next strike landed, Sarah didn't fight the scream any longer; instead, she arched her back, her head snapping up as her mouth opened. Her throat was so dry from the pain and tears that the scream sounded more like a strangled squawk, before it fizzled out into a croaked sob. The last five strikes were a blur of burning stripes and tears, interspersed with short screams and gasping sobs as she fought to catch her breath in between the intensely stinging strokes.

While Sarah struggled with handling the pain, Jareth faced his own struggle as he forced himself to continue with the punishment, despite his desire to throw the cane from his hand and cuddle the sobbing woman in front of him. The moment the last stroke fell, Jareth tossed the cane into the air, where it vanished in a haze of glitter. As much as his fingers itched to caress the red welts, the ends of which he could see blooming on the sides of her knickers, he restrained himself. _'Now is not the time. Someday...someday we will play hard and he will writhe at my touch in a pleasurable way. That is not tonight,'_ he thought irritably, as he gently guided her to stand up.

"Easy, Precious. Go slow," he whispered, then deftly scooped her into his arms, before sitting upon a nearby sofa. Tenderly he tucked the crying woman into his lap so that the tender welts running across her bum would not press against his thigh or the seat of the sofa. Wrapping his arms around her, he cradled her against his chest, ignoring the biting pain in his own back, as the cuts pulled open once more against the leather of the sofa.

"Shh...it's okay, Sarah. I know it hurts. But I'm so proud of you, love," he murmured softly. Slumping against his chest, Sarah sobbed freely, her tears landing wetly upon his shoulder, setting the cuts there aflame once more.

"I'm sorry...I'm so sorry… I didn't know, Jareth. I'm sorry," she babbled, clutching him around the neck.

Jareth nuzzled her temple, pressing a tender kiss upon the pulse point there, his words muffled slightly by her hair. "I know, Precious. But you'll remember next time." Ignoring time, Jareth merely rocked her gently, humming a soft melody to soothe the fears and pain of the woman in his arms. As much as he knew the punishment had to be done, the pain he felt now was far more than the physical remnants of the scourge - in many ways the emotional pain associated with causing her such pain hurt him far worse. Jareth lost track of time as he held her. Eventually she relaxed against his chest, her tears easing.

Sniffing, Sarah sighed, her warm breath lightly tickling his neck. "I was so drugged, I don't really remember much of being with Rayvyn, except the madness in his eyes when he started to bring down the knife." Sarah shuddered and seemed to burrow more deeply into Jareth's arms. "The one thing I remember well….is you," she whispered, her words making Jareth's heart swell in his chest. "I remember seeing you appear and thinking that I've never wanted to see someone so badly in my whole life. Seeing you, I knew it would all be okay. I'd be...safe."

Jareth hugged Sarah tighter, impulsively kissing the tender flesh beneath her ear. "It's okay, Precious. I'm not going to let him near you again, even if I have to keep you with me twenty-six hours a day." Sighing, Jareth turned his head, finding Sarah looking at him, her green eyes red from crying, but oddly clear as she gazed openly at him. Around her blossomed a scent he had only ever experienced when she was playing with Toby - love.

"Thank you, Jareth," she murmured, then leaned in the inch needed to touch her lips to his in a sweetly innocent kiss.

Jareth froze. Afraid to respond for fear of frightening her off, he let her lead. The kiss was brief and gentle, accompanied by an increase in the sweetly floral scent of love. Breaking the kiss, Sarah leaned her forehead against his, her verdant eyes shut peacefully. "Forgive me? Please?"

Leaning his head back, Jareth smiled, his fingers curling tenderly under her chin, lifting her face. When she opened his eyes, he murmured softly, "You are already forgiven, Precious. All I ask, is that you listen to me in future. I only wish to keep you safe." Seeing the warmth in her gaze, Jareth dipped his head and kissed her again, letting his lips brush hers gently. His fingers tenderly caressed her cheek, as released the kiss. "And on that note, I think it is time for you to go to bed, Sarah."

Sarah's cheeks fairly glowed, but she nodded. Wincing slightly as she stood, she frowned, one hand reaching behind her to rub at the tender welts.

Smiling, Jareth watched her. "The cane tracks will sting a bit for the next few days, so you will have a constant reminder as you go through your school day."

At his mention of school, Sarah's face fell, a sudden wave of fear rushing through the emotional bond. "What about Rayvyn?"

"I have my best army squad searching for him, Precious… and Father has guards searching as well. We will find him."

"No, I mean school. I've got to leave the house for school. And he's still out there," she muttered, her eyes glossing over once more.

Rising, Jareth pulled her into a warm embrace. ""It's okay, Sarah. Father has shielded the school. Dark magic will be unable to enter the grounds and several guards have been stationed there to protect you. Unless you would rather stay by my side every minute of the day?" Smiling at the faint flush that colored Sarah's cheeks, Jareth kissed her forehead. "For the moment, I want you going to school. If you find your fear too great, then other arrangements will be made to ensure your graduation." Stepping back, Jareth nodded toward the door. "Bed, Sarah. You need rest after everything that has happened. You'll be taking tomorrow off from class. I want you resting in your room during the day, then you will join me in my study at 6 for dinner and our evening study as usual."

Sarah nibbled her lower lip and nodded, then shook her head. "Um...can I have my clothes back first? I can't go traipsing through the halls of the manor dressed like this. What would the housekeepers say?"

Laughing now, Jareth twirled a golden crystal across the back of his hand. "They'd probably say 'Lucky girl'," he teased, smiling at the deepening bloom of pink on Sarah's cheeks. "However, so as to protect your reputation, I'll make other arrangements. Good night, sweet Sarah," he chuckled, tossing the crystal at her.

Sarah gasped in surprise, her hands flying up to catch the crystal just as it burst in a shower of pink glitter. When the pink haze dissipated, she found herself standing next to her bed. "I really hate it when he does that," she grumbled, collapsing onto her bed, only to hiss as the movement put pressure on the welts from the cane. "Owwww….Those...are going to make classes _very_ interesting this week."

Rolling onto her side, Sarah saw Jareth's punishment book sitting on her nightstand, a feather poking out from between the pages. Carefully she picked it up, flipping the book open to where the feather was holding the place. Nibbling her lip, she skimmed the page, her eyes slowly widening as she read -

_**Infraction:** _ _Took a dragon to Idlylwyld Point to meet Diedre and manipulated Mother into granting me access to the myst portal to go Above._

_**Reason:** _ _Because Father treats me like a child by restricting where I can go and when._

_**Punishment:** _ _50 lashes with the scourge; + 20 for Mother_

Tears sprang to her eyes at the thought of what Jareth had gone through for his mother and for herself. "I asked for a sign about how he felt," she muttered, a finger tracing the careful script in the book. "I think I've definitely gotten it."

Now all she had to do was figure out how she felt about him.

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Author's Note: Thanks for all the lovely reviews. They've inspired me greatly, so that I have full working 'dialogues' and scene plans for the next 4-6 chapters...now I just have to find the time to write them! Thanks for reading and please review!


	26. Expect the Unexpected

**Ch. 27: Expect the Unexpected**

**Author's Note:** Well, here you go…another chapter. I really struggled with writing this one, so I may take a brief break on this story and write a chapter for one of my other stories to get my 'groove' back again. Not sure which one it will be… likely 'Wheel of the Year' as I haven't updated that one in faaaaarrrr too long and they've got a festival they are woefully overdue for! ;) Working on that one will help me plot out the next chapter for this story. When I get back to this one, we will be moving into some more 'lemony' stuff…so YAY for that. For those that know me, you know that writing lemons stresses me out (which is why I will take a little break from this one to find my course for it ;) )

As always, please review…I live for them some weeks.

 **Warnings:** My muse took me in a rather dark direction in parts of this chapter. So, consider yourselves warned for sickly sweet fluff, as well as sexual themes, non-con mention and some horror (which is not my strong suit, sorry if it disappoints).

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Six days.

One-hundred and forty-four hours. 8640 minutes. They were finite. Logically Sarah knew this as an immutable law...but that didn't stop each second from seeming to tick by more slowly that the one that preceded it.

Six days. One-hundred and forty-four hours. 8640 minutes. 518400 seconds. That was how long it had been since Jareth and Oberon had returned Underground for some big, 'hush-hush' meeting, leaving Toby and Sarah under Titania's care. She'd asked Titania about it the first morning and was told that it was simply business of the Grand Council, and there was nothing for Sarah to concern herself with. But Sarah wasn't convinced.

Grand Council or not, the last words Jareth spoke to her before leaving were to tease her about going to bed, then nothing for a week - more or less.

"Well, that's not entirely true," Sarah sighed to herself. Rolling onto her side she flipped her pillow over and gave it a sharp thump, before dropping back down. She growled, watching her clock seem to flicker as it started to change from 2:23 to 2:24. "Arrrgh! Change already!" she snapped, when the green glowing digit got half-way through it's change, then flicked back. "Oh! You did that on purpose! Stupid clock."

Flopping on her back, Sarah stared at the ceiling, thinking over the days that had passed since her punishment in Jareth's study. She'd gone to breakfast the morning after, expecting to find herself alone in the sun room as usual. Instead, she found Titania cutting up pancakes for Toby, who rushed over to give Sarah a sticky- faced kiss and hug. At her own plate she found an linen parchment envelope, with her name in the precise script she knew was Jareth's.

_Precious…_

_Something has come up at home, so I must return with Father to resolve things. Mother will remain Above with you and Toby. She will oversee your lessons on Fae culture in the evenings, otherwise you are free to roam the manor as you wish - however I would ask that remain indoors unless Mother, Louis or another member of the family is with you._

_I will speak to you soon._

_J~_

Only he didn't.

For the last six days there had been no word from him, not personally at least. While she hadn't spoken to him, he sent a message Tuesday morning that a surprise would await her after school in the center of the Labyrinth. Seeing Titania's sly smile, Sarah guessed that she knew what the surprise would be. So at the appointed time she set off toward the center of the garden Labyrinth, only to squeal with delight at the sight that met her as she rounded the last gate to the center - Sir Didymus sat astride his noble steed.

"My Lady!" he chirped, sweeping his hat off his head and bowing as low as he could from his position on Ambrosious' back. Rushing toward him, Sarah hugged her friend and his loyal dog-steed.

"Oh I've missed you, Sir Didymus!"

"And we you, M'Lady," Sir Didymus chuckled, as he endured her tight embrace, his fluffy muzzle twitching in embarrassment. "Now now… I must ask that you release me. For we have work to do! And introductions must be made, because that is the way these things must be done."

Sitting back on her heels, Sarah smiled at her friend, while petting the fluffy sheepdog. In doing so she finally noticed the tall woman standing near the fountain. The other woman was wearing leather pants and high boots, with a loose silk shirt. Over the shirt she wore a tight leather jerkin, which was embossed with a unicorn, rearing toward the moon.

"Oh...I'm sorry...I didn't see you had company," Sarah mumbled, biting her lip.

"My Lady, may I present to you, Queen Alais of the Fairies," Sir Didymus murmured, smiling at the woman by the fountain, then gesturing toward Sarah. "And Your Majesty, this is the Goblin King's ward, the most noble Lady of the Labyrinth and Champion of the Goblin Kingdom, Sarah Williams."

The woman gave Sarah a warm smile and offered her a gloved hand-up from where she was kneeling on the crushed shell path. Blushing, Sarah took her hand and stood, bending briefly to brush the shell pieces from her jeans. "I'm… well...I guess you know I'm Sarah. And I'm sorry...if I'd known there would be royal visitors, I would have dressed better."

Alais looked at Sarah with familiar lavender eyes, the corners of which crinkled upward when she grinned more broadly, before pulling Sarah into a warm hug. "Oh it is so lovely to finally meet you, Sarah! I am so cranky with Jareth for hiding you away from the rest of the family for so long! And Mother and Father too. It's not fair that they've been hogging you all to themselves. They've been colluding, you see," she said, her words tripping quickly from her tongue as she released Sarah, holding her at an arm's length and grinning. "Mother is right though, you are lovely. And oh! You'll be the talk of the Yule Ball Season! I can't wait to see Milisandre. She'll be green with envy when she sees you!"

Blinking, Sarah stood there, unsure how to react to the way Alais looked her over, before hugging Sarah tightly again. "Um...family? You...you're related to Jareth?" she managed to squeak despite the crushing hug.

The slender woman laughed, the sound sparkling and clear as it rung out against the stone walls at the center of the garden labyrinth. "Oh dear… Diddy left out the rest of my titles." Giggling she glanced fondly at the small fox-goblin. "You did that on purpose, didn't you, Didymus?" Hooking her arm in Sarah's, Alais led her toward a bench under the nearby arbor. "He does that on purpose just to test your knowledge of Underground rulers and the proper hierarchies. You'll have to watch him since he is to begin your tutoring this evening," she chattered, pulling Sarah to sit down. "And yes, I'm family. I'm Jareth's youngest sister."

Feeling a bit like a leaf being tossed about on the wind, Sarah managed to nod and smile, her nerves melting at the friendly way Alais rambled at her. "That explains your eyes. They are just like your mother's."

Alais nodded, "Oh yes. That is also why I am who I am...I mean the Queen of Fairies, that is. Has Jareth covered that realm in your studies yet?" Numbly Sarah shook her head, unsure what to say that wouldn't offend the Queen, only to be relieved of the obligation to say anything when Alais blithely continued. "Oh that's so like him… leave the only matriarchal realm in the Underground for last in your studies. That's why it's mine you see. It goes to the youngest daughter in mum's line. I swear I should declare war on Jareth's precious Labyrinth for slighting me so!" Seeing the faint look of fear on Sarah's face, Alais laughed and squeezed her again. "Don't look so worried. Jareth and I regularly declare a friendly little war on each other. It keeps Hoggle on his toes."

"Wait, is that why Hoggle sprays the fairies at the gates?"

The lilting laugh rang out once more as Alais nodded, her violet eyes sparkling wickedly. "Oh yes. Jareth declares war on my fairies just because it will annoy poor Hoggle since it is his job to keep them out of the outer areas of the I retaliate and send the fairies to plague Jareth in his castle. Oh my! The stories they tell when they return."

Eyes wide, Sarah frowned, struggling to take in everything that Alais was saying, and only managing half of it. "Doesn't the spray hurt them?"

"Oh dear me no! It's harmless, which is part of the game," Alais assured Sarah, then patted her hand. "But enough chatter about such things. We can talk more of them at dinner. I'm to be here until the Grand Council has concluded their affairs. Jareth asked me to come and teach you self-defense and assist mother with your preparation for the Yule festivities. So… here I am!"

And that was how Alais came to be at the manor - and how Sarah came to be covered in bruises.

Every afternoon, Alais led Sarah into the hidden courtyard within the garden Labyrinth and drilled her on the basics of self-defense. For three hours she was Alais' not-so-willing victim - and while she might be the Queen of Fairies, Sarah was quite sure the woman was actually a magic ninja. No matter how hard Sarah tried to defend herself from the whacks of Alais' staff, the Queen always found a gap and managed to thump her soundly. Despite the bumps and bruises, Sarah's lessons with Alais were already paying off, she was learning quite a bit at a rapid rate, which seemed to please the Queen of the Fairies greatly - not that this caused Alais to let up on her. If anything, the rate at which Sarah picked up the basic skills made Alais work her even harder.

Then when the outside clock carved into the back of the manor chimed six each evening, Alais would send Sarah in to have a shower before dinner, which began promptly at 6:30 in the formal dining room. Throughout dinner Titania would instruct Sarah in the etiquette that would be expected when she took her place in Fae society. As dull as that might have been, Alais and Titania kept Sarah's spirits up, regaling her with tales of Jareth's escapades when he was young. In spite of herself, Sarah laughed so hard her sides ached and her cheeks hurt, all of them knowing full well that if Jareth were there, he would never allow them to tell such ridiculous stories about him.

Following dinner each night, Sarah found herself sequestered in Jareth's study where Sir Didymus tutored her in Underground culture and history. Given the choice of being bruised and battered from her lessons with Alais, or the mind-numbing boredom of culture and history tutorials with Sir Didymus, Sarah would happily choose to be worked over by Alais.

Her home life, while not 'normal' by any stretch of the imagination, was at least filled with activities and conversation - however her days were anything but companionable.

Being at Callawalder Academy was safe enough, just as as Jareth had promised. In fact no one even mentioned the accident - it was as if it never happened. If Sarah thought too much about it, she suspected that Jareth probably had something to do with that, but given the circumstances, it seemed best to just put it out of her own mind as well. But try as she might to forget what happened on the weekend, between nightmarish memories of what Rayvyn tried to do, and the absence of her best friend. Each day Sarah would arrive in homeroom hoping that Angel would be back, only to be disappointed when she never arrived. School might be safe, but it was a Hellish place to be without her best friend. Most days she fought the urge to wish herself into an oubliette in the Labyrinth. _'Maybe I should have taken Jareth up on the offer to be by his side every minute,'_ she thought ruefully as she faced yet another interminable chemistry lesson without Angel.

All in all, Sarah's days were busy and filled with people, but once the house lights were dimmed for the night and the occupants tucked into bed, Sarah felt a loneliness that she could not understand. It wasn't just that Angel was not at school, the despair and silence within her went much deeper - as if something vital were missing in her life.

"Jareth," she sighed, rolling over in her bed once more to face the stubborn clock that was still teasing her by refusing to flip over to 2:24. Deep down she knew what was missing. Jareth was. As much as she hated to admit it, the manor didn't feel like 'home' anymore unless Jareth was there.

Watching the clock tease her by actually flipping _back to 2:22_ , Sarah growled and sat up, tossing her covers aside. It was bad enough that the house felt so odd and empty without Jareth, but she hadn't had a proper night's sleep since he'd left. Each night she would lay down, feeling exhausted from all of the lessons, workouts and emotional emptiness, only to lay awake for hours on end watching the damn clock tease her. After the first night, she tried wearing the shirt Jareth had left her wearing after the punishment. That helped the second night, but by the third his scent had faded and so too did any magical 'sleep inducing powers' it had. Grabbing the silk over her heart, Sarah held it to her nose and inhaled, sighing at the faint scent.

"This is ridiculous," she muttered, standing up and grabbing the linen pajama pants laying on the foot of the bed. The pants and shirt she took from Jareth's bedroom weeks before might no longer smell like him, but she couldn't see a way to get them back to him without being found out. So, since no one had asked about them, she kept them; washing them on Mrs. Brown's evening off so that no one would know.

Dressed, Sarah peeked out into the hall and listened for some hint that anyone else in the house was awake. The only sound she heard was the faint ticking of the grandfather clock in the grand hall, and the faint creaking of the old manor house as it settled in the chilly November air. Biting her lip, Sarah left her room, her bare feet sinking into the plush carpet that lined the west wing hall. Her feet made no sound, yet she found herself tip-toeing down to the first landing, before heading up toward the east wing of the house - the family wing.

' _I shouldn't be doing this… I need to go downstairs and just get some warm milk,'_ she thought, while her feet continued toward the hall that led to Jareth's room. Moving silently down the long corridor, she felt as if her heart would stop, as she held her breath passing each room. When she reached the end of the hall, she paused in front of Jareth's door, the heavy wooden carvings seeming to shimmer in the darkness. _'I should leave. I tempted fate once before. That was enough. Go to the kitchen. Go back to bed. Go anywhere in the house but here.'_ As if sensing her inner struggle, the door's latch clicked and the thick wood slowly swung inward. _'Stupid Labyrinth is going to get me into trouble doing this shit. Well… a little peek wouldn't hurt.'_

Peeking back down the long hall, Sarah listened for any movement from the other rooms, then crept through the door to Jareth's suite. Behind her the heavy door swung shut without a sound, leaving her alone in Jareth's parlor. Slowly she made her way around the room, thankful that the moonlight made it easy to pick her way around the room. Just being in his parlor made her feel more relaxed, the scent of spices and rain hanging in the air of the room. As she neared the door to the bedroom, it slowly eased open, letting her see inside. The large bed was bathed in gentle moonlight, giving the whole room an ethereal quality. Moving closer to the bedroom, she sighed as the spicy scent that was uniquely Jareth surrounded her, drawing her through the doorway. Slowly she approached the bed, trailing her fingers along the brocade velvet of the bedspread and marveling at the size of it. _'Here's where i should make some comment about him overcompensating for something…'_ she thought, stifling a giggle. _'But...I'm quite sure he isn't.'_

For several long minutes she stood next to the bed, staring at the side of the bed that she was sure that was his, his book still open on the nightstand next to the pillow. Being this close to where he slept, the scent of him seemed to invade every cell of her body, a strange sense of calm washing over her.

"I'll only stay for a moment," she murmured to herself, sitting lightly on the edge of the bed. The bed was firm, yet soft enough that she was sure it would feel like laying on a cloud. Biting her lip, she reached up and tugged the covers down enough that she could slide under them. The further she burrowed under the covers, the more relaxed and sleepy she became. "He's not due back until next week, Alais said," she whispered, her soft sigh fluttering against Jareth's pillow as she lay her head upon it. Breathing deep the rich spices of Jareth's scent, Sarah felt her eyes falling shut. "Just a short...nap… no one will ever….know…." Within moments she was fast asleep, for the first time in three days.

**.·:*¨¨*:·.** **.·:*:·.** **.·:*¨¨*:·.** **.·:*¨¨*:·.**

When Jareth slipped through the portal behind the tapestry in his bedroom an hour later, he couldn't hold back the smile at the sight that greeted him - a sight he never dared dream he would see so soon. For the last week it was all he could do to chase her from his thoughts long enough to carry out his duties to the kingdom. Seeing her in his shirt the week before had instilled in him a longing to see her tucked into his bed...and here she was, as if knowing his deepest wish.

Silently moving across the room, Jareth let his formal Underground attire melt away, to be replaced with his favourite lounging pants. In the moonlight, the cuts on his back were still visible, as he walked toward the bed; crusted over and still painful if he moved too quickly.

Pausing, he looked at the sleeping woman, her face peaceful and still. He longed to slide under the covers with her, to wrap her in his arms and hold her close. _'But she can be so skittish…'_ he mused with a soft sigh. _'Though, she seems to be thawing a bit. Perhaps we shall see if she is truly coming to terms with the bond and what it means. Tonight is as good a time as any, I suppose.'_

Jareth picked up the covers and carefully slid under them, biting back a groan at the way her body had warmed the fine linen sheets. Shifting gently across the bed, he settled down, his eyelids feeling heavy. _'My bed...with my mate in it. I could get used to this.'_ Jareth rolled toward her, watching her smile softly in her sleep, her breathing slow and relaxed. _'Yes, I could definitely get used to this,'_ he mused, his own lips curling into a quiet smile, as his eyes fell shut - sleep finally overtaking him.

Rolling over in her sleep, Sarah felt something heavy lying across her stomach. Her breath caught in her throat when the weight tensed, as a warm hand splayed across her stomach. Sarah froze, her eyes flying open as she went from half-asleep to wide awake in an instant. If the scent that seeped into her with every breath was anything to go by, there was only one person who could belong to the arm holding her - "Jareth!" she gasped.

"Hmmphhhmmbleshhhhluvv…"

"Oh God...Jareth...I'm sorry..." Sarah whispered, trying in vain to move his arm so she could slip out of the bed and flee back to her room.

The arm over her stomach tightened, pulling her back more firmly.. From this position she could feel every hard plane of his chest, from his shoulders to his hips. "It's too early to get up... Sarah," he muttered, his voice deep and rough with sleep.

"I was just…I was lonely...I didn't mean to," she babbled frantically, as she grabbed his wrist and tried to move his arm.

"Shh...it's okay, Precious. I'm not upset, just tired." Jareth yawned, nuzzling the crook of her neck in a way that made her tremble in his arms. "And I was lonely too. Now go back to sleep. We can talk in the morning."

With a soft whine of protest, Sarah tried to twist under his arm, only to find herself pinned more tightly against him, until she could feel something very different to the firm muscle of his chest, pressing against her bum and lower back. His voice was deeper when he growled softly in her ear, "Sarah… I've not had a lick of decent sleep all week. I am _exhausted_. It is too bloody early to get up for the day. So please… I'm begging you, relax and go back to sleep. "

Sarah fell silent, her body rigid as he shifted on the bed, situating her more comfortably against his body once more. When she felt him relax again, Sarah nibbled her lip, her mind racing as she mulled over the implications of staying - while her inner-self screamed it's vote for remaining right where she was. "But Jareth...I can't stay. What if someone finds out I'm not in my bed? What would they think? It would cause a scandal."

Jareth gave a sleepy groan, shifting the frustrating woman back to a more comfortable position and tucking the covers firmly around her. "Alais would be thrilled, she's taken quite a liking to you and would be happy to have another woman in the family to outnumber Father and myself. Mother and Father would happily send out courting announcements and make arrangements for a ball. The only person who _might_ cluck about things is Mrs. Brown, and she'd just have to get used to it. Now, for the love of the Gods and my sanity - Go to sleep Sarah! I will send you back to your rooms in the morning," Jareth grumbled. "If you don't shush and let me get more sleep, then I'll make you do the walk of shame back to your wing wearing _nothing_ but my shirt... _And_ I'll make sure you run into the entire household in the process."

Giggling at that grumpy bear tone in Jareth's voice, Sarah finally settled down again. "You seem to think they'd take a lot of things for granted if they knew where I was."

"Sarah…" Jareth growled, in warning. "No more."

Still giggling softly, Sarah laid her head back down. Despite her panic at being discovered, the 'rightness' of being in Jareth's arms and bed seemed to win out, as her eyelids drooped lower. "I'm glad you're home," she mumbled with a lazy yawn, snuggling back against him.

"I'm glad too. Now sleep."

A moment later Mr. Bun appeared in her arms. Smiling, Sarah sighed, rubbing her cheek against the stuffed rabbits silken ear.

"He was lonely too," Jareth murmured softly in her ear.

**.·:*¨¨*:·.** **.·:*:·.** **.·:*¨¨*:·.** **.·:*¨¨*:·.**

Stretching, Titania frowned, slowly becoming aware of a frantic tapping upon on her door. "The children!" she gasped, flinging back the covers and getting up, her thick robe appeared instantly around her shoulders. As she rushed toward the door to the hall, she opened the familial link, feeling through the many strands to find the one in trouble. By the time she reached the door, she had accounted for each of the 'children' in her line and they were all peacefully resting. Feeling further along, she realized that Jareth was back in his rooms down the hall, and Sarah's heartline was wrapped around his, the two hearts beating in sync. Smiling, she opened the door, to see Mrs. Brown, her hand raised in mid-knock. The old housekeeper gasped, her face red and blotchy with distress.

"Oh Madame….I'm so sorry to wake you at such an ungodly hour, but it's Sarah. I went in to wake her and she's not in her bed. It hasn't been slept in! I thought…"

The door across the hall opened and Alais poked her tousled head out. "Is everything okay, Mum?"

"Sarah's missing!" Mrs. Brown insisted, wringing her hands, as tears started to glisten upon her eyelashes.

Cocking her head, Alais looked at her mother in confusion, while tracing the familial lines. When she got to Sarah and Jareth's heartlines, she smiled, glancing toward the heavy door at the far end of the family wing.

Gently patting the woman's arm, Titania smiled warmly. "It's okay, Tess. I should have sent word. Sarah was upset…."

"Yeah...so I suggested an impromptu slumber party," Alais cut in, giving her mother a broad smile. "We got to sleep late so, well we won't be at breakfast this morning. I'll take her out for donuts later on."

Smiling reassuringly at the upset housekeeper, Titania forced back a laugh at the way her daughter easily twisted the truth.

"Really?" Mrs. Brown asked, looking from Alais to Titania. "Okay then, I guess I'll go downstairs and continue preparing the breakfast tray for Mr. Rex…."

"Oh...no… I wouldn't worry about Gareth this morning, Tess," Titania shook her head, interrupting the housekeeper, while Alais turned gave a muffled laugh, hiding her smile against her shoulder. "I suspect he'll want to sleep late, I heard him come in in the wee hours this morning. Why don't you go feed Toby and keep him out of the family wing so Gareth can rest."

Mrs. Brown nodded slowly. "Well, if you think that is best, Ma'am."

Titania and Alais watched the old housekeeper walk back down the hall. Once she had disappeared from view, Alais snickered. "Such a way to twist the truth, Alais. You should be ashamed," scolded her mother with a soft laugh.

"But it's the truth, she _is_ having a slumber party - of sorts."

"Yes well, be that as it may, I do not want you mentioning this to Jareth _or_ Sarah. The poor girl has been through enough. I don't want you doing or saying anything that will make her more reluctant to accept the bond," Titania said, giving her daughter a firm look.

"Don't worry, Mum. It's about time those two got themselves sorted out. I'm not going to do anything that might jeopardize that," Alais smiled, peeking back down the hall. "What do you suppose happened that they are together in his rooms?"

Titania shot her daughter a disapproving look. "That is none of our business, Lala. And I don't want you assuming anything has happened. They are bonded. You know that means that they are likely to draw comfort from being near each other. After the week they've had, I wouldn't blame them for anything they may have done. Now that is the end of it, Alais. Not. One. Word. To either of them!"

"Yes, Mum," Alais muttered, grinning at her mother's use of her childhood pet name. "But if I were to take Sarah out for donuts later and she were to...say...volunteer information, then it's fair game right?" At the dark look from her mother, Alais giggled and ducked back into her room, shutting the door.

Shaking her head, Titania retreated into her own room. "That girl… the sooner I get her married off the better."

**.·:** ***¨¨*:·.** **.·:*:·.** **.·:*¨¨*:·.** **.·:*¨¨*:·.**

Still smiling about the lovely dream she had about Jareth, Sarah stretched, only to freeze at the feel of a hard body behind her. _'It wasn't a dream,'_ she thought.

"No...it wasn't," Jareth murmured in her ear, smiling against the skin of her neck. "And good morning to you too."

Shutting her eyes tightly, Sarah shivered. "Shit. I said that out loud? "

"Now now, let's not start the day with you getting in trouble for language unbecoming of a lady," he laughed quietly, covering for his slip up. Sarah fell quiet, her body tense against his. He could feel her indecision through the link, the sensation at odds with the sweet smell of happiness, faintly tinged with fear. "Relax, Precious. I'm not going to punish you for that little slip." Relief rushed through the link, making him laugh in spite of himself. Scooting back, Jareth rolled her onto her back, his arm still draped over her stomach. Propping his head on her other hand, he smiled at her, drinking in the way that his shirt revealed the bond mark on her chest. "So, how did you sleep?"

Sarah's cheeks flushed faintly, avoiding his gaze as she nodded. "Um... Very good….Thanks," she mumbled. "I..I should go."

"Why?" he asked conversationally, his fingers casually brushing hair back from his face.

For a moment, Sarah was mesmerized by the way his hair seemed to 'fluff' naturally around his head. In his sleep, the glamour he wore Aboveground had faded, leaving him looking like she remembered, his hair standing out wildly, while his eyebrows arched steeply. Tearing her gaze from his face, she looked back at the sheer golden canopy of the bed. "It's not proper," she muttered, her cheeks heating further at the way he tilted his head, giving her an intense look. For a split second she felt sure he was seeing her through his owl form, as his eyes flickered golden striped, before fading to a warm blue.

Jareth's expression turned thoughtful, the blue eyes narrowing upon her pink-tinted cheeks. "What is so improper about it, Precious?"

"I spent the night in your _bed_ , Jareth," she replied incredulously.

"Yes, and we _slept_ , Sarah. Just like everyone else in this house. We _slept..._ in a bed."

Groaning in frustration, Sarah pulled herself upright. With a shake of her head, she leaned against the headboard, her knees pulled up against her chest, momentarily forgetting the fact that she was no longer wearing Jareth's pajama pants. Jareth bit back a smirk, as his eyes wandered over the smooth expanse of flesh her position afforded him, before being distracted by her words.

"People won't care that that is all we did, Jareth. They'll talk. There will be rumours."

Sitting up next to her, Jareth smiled warmly, feeling the distress throbbing through the familial link, accompanied by the soft musky scent of desire. "I will never fully understand Aboveground sexual mores." When Sarah gave him a puzzled look, he reached out, caressing her cheek lightly. "You... _we_...have nothing to be ashamed of, Precious. You took comfort in my room and I took comfort in having you here. Unless I am mistaken, you didn't sleep well while I was gone."

Sarah sniffed and nodded, the scents shifting around her, from desire to confusion. "So, we found comfort with each other, darling. Where is the shame in that? None of my family would bat an eyelid at the fact that you spent the night in my bed - whether we were merely sleeping or being more...energetic."

Sarah's stomach fluttered at his words, then she sighed. "Still...I'm sorry for intruding on your space. I shouldn't…."

"Were it anyone else, I'd be angry. But it's you," he said, smiling at her. "In the future, if you find comfort in this space, then you are welcome to seek it out," he said, his tone soft. "Whether I am home or not…" he added, letting the sentence fade away quietly.

Looking at the gentle warmth in his eyes, Sarah felt her heart flutter in her chest. "I was lonely…"

"So you said last night, Precious," Jareth nodded, as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "I admit I was surprised to find that you were on your own. I had thought that you and Angel would have resolved your differences in the past week and would have been having one of your slumber parties."

The wave of desolation and despair that rushed through the link was so all-encompassing it made Jareth shudder and clench his eyes tight against the pain. Around him, the cloying scent of sadness hung heavily in the air, threatening to suffocate him. Breathing slowly, he opened his eyes, struck by the level of pain in Sarah's form. With a sob she buried her face in her arms and Jareth reacted on instinct, wrapping his arm around her and pulling her close, until she was nearly in his lap.

"Oh love...I didn't know. I thought her grandparents would relent once the spell was placed on the school," he sighed, the feel of her warm tears rolling down his bare chest making his heart ache for her.

Sarah gave a wrenching sniff, not moving from where her cheek rested against his chest, her words now lifeless and dull. "No...she hasn't been back to school. They took her away for the week. I know they got back yesterday, so I tried to call, but they still won't allow me to talk to her."

Jareth frowned, the feeling of her despair clawing at him, making the bond mark on his wrist itch and throb. Fighting against the emotions that poured from her, he managed to seal the familial link and dampen the bond enough to think. "I'm sorry, Sarah. I promised I would take care of it. And that is what we shall do," he murmured, kissing the top of her head. While Sarah gave a dejected sniff, Jareth flicked his fingers, calling a shimmering crystal into being.

Still drowning in her own misery, Sarah barely noticed Titania's face appearing in the glittering surface. Seeing the sadness upon Sarah's face, Jareth's mother frowned, her violet eyes narrowing.

"Is everything all right, Jareth? I assumed that since Sarah was with you…."

"No...well yes… oh blast. It's complicated, Mother, Jareth sighed, the tightness in his jaw being the only sign to his mother that all was not as well as she had hoped. " I'll explain later. For the moment, I just need you to know that I will be taking Sarah out for breakfast. Please inform Tess that neither of us will be dining at home this morning, and we may not return until dinner this evening."

Titania nodded, eyeing her son and his Champion with worry. "If you must, then you must, Jareth. Take care of her."

"As if I needed you to tell me that, Mother," Jareth replied, flipping the crystal into the air where it vanished. Glancing down at the woman burrowing sadly against his chest, he smiled quietly and caressed her cheek tenderly. "Come, Sarah. It is time to go put an end to this nonsense with Angel."

"Why do you care?" she muttered, pulling into a tighter ball against his side.

"Because I much prefer to see you happy, even if that means that you and Angel hide away in your rooms looking at items online that are questionable - at least by Aboveground standards."

Seeing Sarah crack the tiniest of smiles at his jibe, Jareth chuckled. "Now, you'd best get up and rush off to your rooms while Tess is feeding Toby. Unless you really did like the idea of doing a walk of shame through the house in nothing but my shirt?"

Sarah squeaked, pulling away from him and glaring at him with wide eyes. "You wouldn't!"

Without answering, Jareth pulled a crystal from the air and began counting down. "Five...four..." By the time he reached two, Sarah had snatched the pajama pants from the floor and was racing for the door, her retreating footsteps followed by Jareth's amused chuckle.

**.·:*¨¨*:·.** **.·:*:·.** **.·:*¨¨*:·.** **.·:*¨¨*:·.**

Trees, still deep red and gold with the leaves of late fall, flickered past the window's of Jareth's small green Jaguar. Lining the side of the road in neat rows, they seemed to shimmer in the golden sunlight, but Sarah barely noticed. Staring out the window without really seeing the trees, Sarah wrestled with feelings that seemed to tumble over each other in rapid succession.

"I don't know why you didn't just ...y'know...poof us over to their house," she finally muttered, as Jareth double-pumped the clutch and swung the small roadster around a sharp curve in the country road.

Not taking his eyes from the road, Jareth chuckled, deftly flicking the gear shift as he accelerated up the road, the little green car roaring under them. "Well, a crash course in magical physics is clearly called for. While I could 'poof' us there as you so eloquently put it, to do so would entail expending energy both to get there and back, as well as to manipulate time _and_ the memories associated with us just appearing without a car. That is quite a bit of energy expenditure, even for me. While I could do it, there are more sensible ways to approach things."

Sighing, Sarah went back to staring out the window, unaware that Jareth was watching her. He could feel the myriad of emotions running through her, the jumps from depression to hope, to fear and dismay, jarring to his senses. _'How do humans handle it,'_ he mused. Being Fae, his emotional range was vast, but due to the way emotions could cause problems for magical power, he had been trained from an early age to compartmentalize whenever possible. Tamping down the familial link, he felt his jaw tick at the way her emotions and random thoughts flowed through him from the mate-bond. _'I must really ask Father and Mother if there is a better way to block that conduit. Nowhere in the annuls was it suggested that an unconsummated bond would result in a link such as the one Sarah and I seem to have.'_

Jareth turned the car through stone gates, slowing down as he started up the straight drive to the house. At the end of the smoothly paved driveway was a large stone manor, standing tall and imposing over the landscape. Biting her lip, Sarah felt her stomach clench at the austere edifice, the whole thing feeling inhospitable and cold. "I can't believe I thought your manor house was cold and unwelcoming when I first saw it - this place is 100 times worse."

Glancing at her as he stopped the car, Jareth chuckled. "Ahh...so now you appreciate my manor? Is it still unwelcoming."

Sarah cracked a weak smile and shook her head, her eyes still glued to the imposing structure in front of them. "No...it's home now," she said.

' _Especially when you are there.'_

Smiling at the errant thought that echoed through his mind in Sarah's voice, Jareth reached over and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I'm glad, Sarah. It never felt as much like a real 'home' as it has since you and Toby arrived. Let's work on keeping it that way, shall we?"

Numb, Sarah nodded, still looking at the house. Jareth could see her heartbeat fluttering wildly at the base of her throat, and dared not open the family link to feel her emotion. In the confines of the small sportscar, the strong vinegar odor of fear and despair, were enough to turn his stomach and gave him some measure of sympathy for what his pregnant sister must be going through with her sickness. "Come on, Precious. Let's go get this settled so you can have your friend back, and I can have my happy Sarah back, hmmm?"

' _His happy Sarah? When did I become 'His' Sarah at all,'_ she wondered, giving him a quiet look, then nodding and getting out of the car.

Jareth shook his head as he slide out of the car, trying to rid himself of her thoughts. With his hand falling to her lower back, Jareth guided Sarah to the door, while contemplating the implications of hearing her thoughts. While the phenomena had been useful thus far, he knew without a doubt that Sarah would be horrified when she found out she had been projecting her thoughts into his mind. _'There's nothing for it...I'm going to have to tell her about her magic and release it, so that we can begin to train her to use it.'_ Pushing the thought from his head, Jareth looked up at the heavy wooden door, banded by thick ironwork twists. A wave of trepidation washed over him from Sarah, making his own stomach lurch uncomfortably. Jareth forced the sensation down as he rang the doorbell, a deep booming chime announcing their arrival. Moments later, the door opened.

A stern, older gentleman frowned disapprovingly at them, his muddy brown eyes glancing at Jareth, before narrowing upon Sarah. "Hurrumph...you have some nerve showing your face here, girl," he grumbled, his gnarled hand curled around the handle of the door.

Feeling Sarah cringe and move toward his side, as if trying to hide behind him, Jareth growled inwardly, his arm automatically coming out to gently wrap around Sarah's back. He could feel her despair growing. "I'll thank you to keep your opinions to yourself. We are here to see your employers. So why don't you do your job and inform them that we are here."

The butler gave Jareth a poisonous glare, that made Sarah shrink further. She felt a strange weight to the air, then the nasty look on the butler's face faded a bit, becoming vaguely unfocused. "Follow me," he said, all vehemence gone from his tone.

Pushing the door open, he held it as Jareth followed him into the house, his arm still around Sarah's back, propelling her forward whether she liked it or not. The butler led them to a formal parlor, a fire lit in the large grate along the outer wall of the manor. Taking a quick peek around, Sarah noted that the formal parlor at Jareth's home was far more inviting than this - the walls here were papered with dark burgundy velvet paper, that was so dark it was nearly black. The floors were highly-polished dark wood, covered here and there with thick Persian rugs. Like the floors and the walls, the heavy leather furniture was dark, sleek deep brown leather covering every sofa and chair. Just being in the room made Sarah feel as if wet wool blankets were being draped over her head, weighing her down.

The butler nodded at them, gesturing at a sofa. "Please be seated, I will inform Professor and Mrs. Omiciolli that you are here."

When he left the room, Sarah sighed. "I don't like it here. It feels…'wrong' somehow."

"I feel it too, Precious. Stay strong and we shall keep our visit as short as possible."

As they sat there, the stench of rotting meat that had assailed him when they entered the room got steadily stronger. Jareth frowned, rotting meat wasn't something one would expect to smell in a home such at this, which meant one thing - Dark Fae.

Wrinkling up her nose, Sarah looked around, sniffing delicately. "Do you smell that? It smells like someone forgot to put some rotten meat out for garbage collection."

Surprised, Jareth glanced at the young woman, now surreptitiously sniffing the arm of his suit coat. "I assure you, Precious. It is not me. But it would seem that your changeling status is progressing. What you smell is a scent associated with one who has been tainted by Dark Fae."

With wide eyes, Sarah gasped, her eyes locking on Jareth. "You don't think…"

"Sarah!" sobbed Angel, rushing through the door of the parlor.

Sarah felt her stomach roil and lurch in her stomach at the horrific stench of rotting flesh that filled the room when Angel came in. From her side she heard Jareth groan, his throat clicking to suppress the gagging sensation. Throwing her arms around Sarah, Angel hugged her close, unaware of the nausea that threatened her best friend.

"I've tried to call, but they've taken my phone and won't let me use the house phone. Oh Sarah! They are sending me to Switzerland for school!"

A low growl built within Jareth as he looked at Angel. The overpowering stench of the Dark Fae would have been suspicion enough, but the glowing black aura that surrounded the girl was concrete proof - she was tainted. With a choked moan, Sarah pushed Angel away and lurched toward the large potted fern by the door. Dropping to her knees, she gripped the ornate china flower pot and buried her face into the lush greenery, the sound of vomiting filling the silent room.

"Sarah? What's wrong?" asked Angel, moving toward her friend, only to stop at the stern growl from Mr. Rex.

"Angel!" he barked, holding up a hand as he rose to his feet. "Don't touch her!"

Frowning, Angel froze and turned back to look at Mr. Rex. "But…."

With a shake of his head, he pointed at the nearby chair. "Sit there. Let me deal with her. You cannot help her." Once Angel had obeyed his order, Jareth moved to Sarah, squatting low and gently rubbing her back. "Sit up, Precious and take my hand. I can give you some protection, but we must work quickly."

Still gasping, Sarah nodded and sat up, hastily wiping her mouth with the back of her hand. "S-sorry."

"Shh...you're fine. The stench of a Dark Fae taint is bad enough for full Fae, I can only imagine how it feels for you," he murmured, nodding encouragingly as she took his hand.

Sarah felt a slow growing heat from Jareth's palm, that seemed to travel up her arm. In the space of several breaths, she felt the comforting glow seem to suffuse entire body. She took an experimental breath, nodding at him when the foul smell seemed to recede. "Thanks."

Helping her up, Sarah gasped as she looked at Angel. "Jar...Gareth… do you um… see that," she muttered, eying the rippling black aura that surrounded her friend. Sarah frowned as she took in her friend's appearance. Her eyes, usually made up carefully with gothic shades and dark liner were free of all make-up, she blinked sadly at Sarah, her eyes bloodshotblood-shot and puffy. Dark purple smudges extended in large arcs under her eyes. As Sarah and Jareth neared her , a brighter blue aura appeared close to Angel's body, pulsing as it pushed outward at the black swirling aura. The blue aura prodded and throbbed, eventually breaking through in several places.

"Sarah...something...somethings wrong. I can feel it," Angel whispered, her voice cracking. Tears glistened on her eyelashes, smears of make-up smudged beneath her eyes. "But no one believes me."

Jareth released Sarah, watching as she sat next to her friend. Angel leaned into Sarah with a soft sob, her shoulders shaking. Tilting his head, Jareth watched the blue aura grow brighter, as if drawing strength from Sarah, while she babbled. "I can't sleep. I have these _horrible_ nightmares. This terrifying man, he makes me do...oh Sarah… such awful things."

Jareth frowned, watching the blue aura recede a bit, before fighting through again. He had only seen one other mortal strong enough to fight off a Dark Fae taint, a strong witch he met during the Aboveground Renaissance. Casting his mind back, he remembered the way her natural golden aura pushed and writhed under the layer of dark magic. Behind him, Jareth could hear the angry voices of Angel's grandparents as they approached the parlor doorway. Inside him a battle raged between his desire to keep his promise to Sarah and not manipulate the situation with any further magic, and the need find out just how Angel came to be tainted by Dark Fae terrified girl's next words made the decision for him.

"He's not human, Sarah...Oh God, help me. I can't fight him. The things he does," she sobbed. "I feel so dirty. I don't know his name, he won't give it...but he calls himself..." hearing the angry voices in the hall, Angel's words faltered, growing soft. Angel clutched Sarah's hand, her fingers leaving white splotches across the other girl's knuckles. Shutting her eyes tightly, she shuddered, "He calls himself...the Goblin King…."

A low growl rumbled in Jareth's chest, his pale eyes narrowing angrily upon the hearth of the parlor. Hearing the growl seem to echo inside her head, Sarah glanced up, her eyes widening at the look of utter fury that clouded behind Jareth's eyes. Around her the air seemed to grow heavier, swirling with a power she knew came from one source - the furious Goblin King. As if feeling the power shift, Angel whimpered and cringed further into Sarah's arms, giving a pitiful whimper, "Don't let him get me."

"I'll thank you two to leave our house at once…." was all Angel's grandfather got out as he stepped through the arched stone doorway of the parlor. Ignoring the old professor, Jareth raised his hand, flicking a shimmering purple crystal into the air. Following his sudden movement with her tired eyes, Angel screamed softly, shrinking back against Sarah.

"No...no… it's him… please… no. I'll be good. I swear! Don't hurt me," she whimpered frantically, while Sarah struggled to hold on to her.

Peeking at Jareth for assistance, Sarah gasped. "Jareth...your glamour!" His Aboveground glamour faded, in place of Gareth Rex stood the 'real' Goblin King. While the sight of Jareth in his Goblin regalia made Sarah's heart flutter in her chest, responding to the terrifying beauty of him, Angel reacted far differently, sobbing wildly as her nails dug into Sarah's hand. "Jareth...stop...you're scaring her."

"She's been tainted by dark magic, Sarah. That is the stench you were smelling," replied, his tone cold and clipped.

Angel clung to Sarah, trembling at the sight of him, she flinched at his words. "He...he comes into my dreams. He's not supposed to. I know that." Moaning, Angel hid her face from Jareth's harsh gaze, her aura flickering black, as the blue pulsed stronger around her, pushing against the blackness until it broke through in more places.

"Do you see that?" Sarah gasped, looking from her friend to Jareth.

With a solemn nod, Jareth moved closer to the sofa. "I do," he murmured softly, dropping to his knee in front of the two girls. "Her natural magic is responding to the presence of Seelie magic, it is reinforcing hers and giving it more strength to fight. We can rid her of the the dark magic that has tainted and marked her, but it will not be easy on her."

Peeking from where she had hidden her face on Sarah's shoulder, Angel screamed seeing the Goblin King so close. "No!" Scrambling away from him she tried to throw herself from the sofa and run for the door, only to freeze at the sight of her grandparents frozen in the doorway. "No! What did you do?!" she screamed, fighting Sarah's hands as she struggled to pull her back to the sofa.

"Shh...it's okay. This isn't the Goblin King in your dreams. This is the real Goblin King. It's okay. He won't hurt you!" Struggling to hold onto her terrified friend, Sarah pleaded with her. "Please...let us help you. It isn't Jar… the Goblin King who has hurt you...but someone else. Please, Angel...please!"

"Look," purred Jareth, twirling a shimmering purple crystal in front of Angel's eyes. His voice seem to whisper throughout the room, amplified, yet soft and enticing - even Sarah had a difficult time resisting the urge to look into the glittery sphere. "Look within, Angel."

Angel's struggling ceased the moment her eyes fastened upon the glowing orb. A quiet sigh creeping past her lips as she relaxed. Gently Sarah guided Angel back to the sofa and sat her down, her eyes never leaving the orb that floated in front of her face. As he watched, the pulsing blue and black auras shifted around Angel, pushing outward. Wherever Sarah touched her friend, the blue aura of her own magic seemed to pool, drawn toward Sarah.

"Her magic is responding well to your presence. That is encouraging. It recognizes Seelie magic," Jareth mused, reassured by the way Angel's magic followed Sarah's touch.

"You mean your magic, right?" Sarah asked.

Absently, Jareth nodded. "Yes, in a way. You are touched by the Labyrinth which is Seelie in nature, so her magic recognizes that which flows around you as a kindred form of power." Tilting his head, he watched the magic push through the black aura, until it wrapped around the fledgling tendril of Sarah's magic, which seemed to feed Angel's own. Slowly the blue magic spread, gradually flowing around Angel until there was a faint blue 'shell' of her own magic surrounding her and protecting her from the Unseelie taint.

Wrapping an arm around herself, Sarah rose, her green eyes glistening with tears as she looked at her friend's vacant expression. Jareth could smell her pain and confusion, like burnt spices, left too long in a brazier. Reaching out he slid his arm easily around Sarah's back, drawing her close to the safe warmth of his leather cloak. In front of them Angel sat rapt by the sight of the floating crystal, her eyes wide and unseeing. Holding Sarah close, Jareth studied the young girl before him - for despite all of Angel's bravado and worldly knowledge, she was still a child in many ways.

"It has to be Rayvyn. He manipulated both of your dreams the night he met you, but I blocked him," he muttered, more to himself than to Sarah.

Blinking, Sarah saw rapid fire images flash through her mind - Jareth torturing her dream-self as she was chained to a platform, while another Jareth and the real her watched from the shadows. She frowned, hearing herself whimpering that the dream was not how it should be. Looking up at him with wide green eyes, she gasped, "You were there! In my dream. It was really you, telling me to change the dream...wasn't it?"

Jareth glanced down at Sarah and nodded. "You had need of me, Precious. I told you that I would always come for you if you needed me. That was how I knew Rayvyn had designs upon you and why I crafted the necklaces to protect you." Registering Sarah's worried stare and the dry dusty scent that flooded around her, Jareth stroked her cheek gently. "Yes, he must have used her to get to you, Sarah. But, have no fear, I will help your friend and take further measures to protect you both." Turning his attention back to Angel, he frowned. Lifting errant curls from her neck, he felt an icy stone settle within him. "Sarah, are you still wearing the crystal necklace I gave you?"

With a confused nod, Sarah reached under the neckline of her simple sweater and lifted out the glittering crystal. Lightly held between her fingers, it pulsed faint pink, calling out to the magic within him. Jareth's frown deepened. "Angel has taken hers off. Her magic must be stronger than I first thought if she could act against the enchantment on the necklace."

"What enchantment? I take mine off every night when I shower." Seeing the furious glare from Jareth, Sarah cringed. "I mean...I…."

"I told you _never_ to take that necklace off!" he hissed, a flicker of magic crackling in the air around him. "And now you know _why_!" As angry as he was with Sarah's continued disobedience, his anger was side-tracked by a soft moan from Angel.

"Master…no…." Angel whimpered, her voice so soft Sarah almost didn't hear it.

In front of them the purple crystal began to pulse and spin faster, drawing Jareth and Sarah's attention. Within moments cloudy images began to take shape within. As Jareth and Sarah watched, the images began to become clearer, finally showing her memories. They could see her backed against the outer wall of the garden labyrinth, as Rayvyn whispered in her ear. His hand slid up under her short skirt, making her whimper in fear, then gasp with pleasure, while the terrified look on her face told the truth of the encounter. Watching as Rayvyn spoke to her and made her quiver at his touch. The scene within the orb faded into red mist. When the mist cleared, Sarah saw Angel bound to a table naked, while the Jareth doppelganger, whipped her mercilessly with a thin whip, each cruel lash leaving a bleeding line that marred her bare flesh. Sarah felt her stomach churn again, the urge to vomit rising. Around Angel, the black aura started to expand, pushing back against the bright blue.

"Damn it all," Jareth growled, moving toward Angel and gently running his hand over the air around her head. The blue aura pulsed stronger nearest his hand, where the black pushed against it, as if trying to devour it. "The taint is fighting back, just the memory of what that bastard has done is fueling it."

Sarah flinched, her eyes widening at the images now swirling within the crystal - images she recognized all too well. "That fucking asshole! That's the same thing he did to the other me in my dream!"

"Yes, but in Angel's dream, she is living it and feeling it, not just observing as in yours."

"Can't you just...poof into her dreams like you did mine?" Sarah demanded, as Angel began to shiver and moan, her hazel eyes widening in horror at the way Rayvyn, mimicking the Goblin King, began to thrust wildly into her. With each thrust, he slid the blade of an obsidian dagger over her skin, leaving dripping crimson lines.

The air around Jareth crackled with power, as rage burned through him. All Fae were known for their ability to be cruel, it was a point of pride in most circles. Even Jareth was known for devising cruel and horrific torture for those most deserving of such treatment - yet nothing he had seen or done prepared him for the level of savagery that Rayvyn had inflicted upon Angel in her nightmares. Scene after blood-drenched scene filtered through the crystal. Repeatedly Rayvyn raped the bound girl in her dreams, while cutting her or whipping her with vile implements. In the scattered flashes of nightmarish memory, he saw at least one instance of evisceration, that left Sarah gasping and clutching at his hand, while Angel moaned and cried, reliving every moment. The taste of bile filled his mouth at seeing himself committing such acts upon an innocent mortal.

Screaming, Angel's head fell back, her body spasming helplessly in a terrifying marrionette's dance. As if controlled by an invisible string, her arms jerked upward, tense and straight from shoulder to wrist, yet her hands flopped wildly with the random movements. Sarah screamed, shrinking back from her friend, only to grunt as Angel's flailing limbs smacked her cheek, forcing her further away. In the next instant Angel's head snapped upward, the movement so hard her teeth clicked together, piercing the tip of her tongue. Angel's mouth opened in a mockery of a smile, blood running over her lips and down her chin. When Agnel opened her eyes, Sarah felt her stomach lurch within her at the sight - pitch black pupils set upon a field of red stared sightlessly into the room, streams of red-black bloon running from the corners of Angel's eyes.

Jareth cursed, pushing Sarah out of the way as he rushed toward Angel. "We have to clear it from her quickly or risk losing her entirely to his thrall!"

In the crystal, Angel poured the contents of a small vial into a red plastic glass and gave it to Sarah. The scene flickered and they saw Angel and a bearded man putting an limp Sarah into the car she was accused of stealing. When the scene shifted, they saw Angel tied to a bench and beaten until blood streamed over her flesh, before a black myst set upon her. Jareth grabbed Sarah, pulling her roughly against his chest, his cloak wrapping around her to keep her from seeing what he knew was coming. In the crystal, the myst solidified into an Unseelie imp, who set upon Angel with his barbed appendage, while the dream Angel and the real Angel screamed in agony, blood dripping from her nose to join her bleeding mouth, a crimson gash that dripped onto her chest.

Pushing herself from Jareth's hold, Sarah grabbed Angel, trying to wake her from the spell. "Jareth! Do something!"

"I can't enter her dreams without permission," he snapped, his magic sizzling through the air around him. "And the orb must do it's work if we want to free her from the hold he has upon her. Let the scene play out, it is nearly done."

As if responding to Jareth's words, the crystal suddently turned pitch black and dropped like a stone from the air. With a grace earned through centuries of combat, Jareth deftly caught the heavy crystal, his gloved hand squeezing it tightly as he secreted it within his cloak. "I need you to do _exactly_ as I say, Sarah. No arguments. No balking." Numbly, Sarah nodded, her eyes misting over with tears. Jareth moved quickly, firmly grabbing Angels' flailing right arm. "Hold her arm and turn her palm up," he ordered, plucking a sharp blade from the binding at the side of his breastplate. Gulping, Sarah nodded, a million questions rushing through her mind. Intent on his task, Jareth ignored the panicked look on Sarah's face, deftly slicing a line through Angel's palm.

A wave of terror rushed through Sarah when Jareth raised the blade, then swiftly cut through his own palm, the slice far deeper than he ever cut himself when offering her blood for her punishment book. A stream of muttered words flowed from his lips as he grasped his bleeding palm against Angels.

"Now hold out her other palm and your hand!" Seeing Sarah hesitate, while Angel started to shudder, her head lolling back once more. "Hurry! We're running out of time, Sarah!"

Clenching her eyes shut tightly, Sarah grabbed Angel's wrist, then presented her palm and Angel's to Jareth. In a flash he had sliced into both, the stinging making Sarah gasp in pain. For a split moment she was fascinated by the sight of her own blood, flowing easily from the wound, running warm and wet as it dripped between her fingers. Without being told to, she clasped Angel's bleeding palm with her own, holding tightly, as Jareth began to murmur in a language she didn't understand.

A supernatural wind began to swirl around the room, whistling shrilly in her ears. As the wind grew louder and faster, Jareth's words rose with it, until he was roaring to be heard over the howling torrent of air. Without warning, a bright blue flash filled the room, making Sarah and Angel scream in unison, while Jareth clenched his teeth, hissing with the power that ripped through him. With his free hand he reached out, grabbing Sarah and pulling her to his side, as she shuddered from the magic now pouring through the three of them.

"Hold onto her!" he shouted over screaming wind that whipped around the room. Sarah whimpered, leaning into his embrace. The wind tore wildly through the room, rattling the curtains and tearing at the books upon the shelves. The faster the wind roared through the room, the brighter the blue aura grew, until a blinding flash forced Sarah and Jareth's eyes shut. And just like that….there was silence.

Dropping his head, Jareth gently kissed the top of Sarah's head, as she panted against his chest. Her eyes were still clenched tight, while she shivered in his embrace. Taking a deep breath, he turned his gaze to Angel, a wave of relief washing through him at the peaceful look upon her face, despite the blood now smeared it. With the taint removed from her, she lay slumped on the sofa, her soft breath blowing faint crimson-hued bubbles through the blood still coating her lips. Releasing Angel's hand, Jareth twisted his bleeding hand and sighed when a shimmering pink crystal appeared upon his palm. He watched as the pink crystal sink slowly into his skin, before conjuring another crystal and placing it on Angel's palm. Glancing down at the shivering woman still burrowing against his side, he tenderly caressed her cheek.

"Sarah, love. It's done. Let go of Angel, so we can see to her needs, hmm?" he murmured softly.

Sarah hesitantly lifted her head, glancing around the room. Papers and books were strewn about, and the curtains were twisted up over the polished wooden railings. Looking at Angel, she felt a sob catch in her throat. "Is she….is she dead?"

Smiling quietly, Jareth shook his head and reached over, to carefully pry Sarah's hand from Angel's. Dropping a pink crystal into Sarah's palm, he covered it with his own, to use his own magic to help bolster hers. Sarah gasped at the warmth that poured through her from the crystal and his hand. With her palm once more without a mark upon it, Jareth turned her to sit on the sofa next to her stricken friend. Stroking her cheek with gloved fingers, he dropped to one knew, gazing into her eyes. "Angel will be fine, but there will be things that must be addressed when she awakes."

Sarah merely nodded, surprising Jareth with the fact that he did not need to argue with her in order to secure her cooperation. Pressing another pink crystal to Angel's cut palm, he felt his own concern over the girl fade a bit. Around her pulsed the blue aura, still reaching out toward Sarah and himself, but all blue now, without a hint of black.

Still sniffling back tears, Sarah leaned over her friend, "I wish…." she muttered, only to blink dumbly at her hand when a warm, wet washcloth appeared. She had wished for one, and even without voicing the wish it had appeared. Glancing at Jareth, she frowned, a strange hestiancy inside her as she spoke. "Did you do that?"

"No, Precious. Remember, you are linked to the Labyrinth. When it feels you are truely in need, it will help you as it can. Just now...it could."

Tenderly Sarah wiped the blood from Angel's face, holding back tears at the sight of the crimson trails staining the white washcloth. She avoided Jareth's eyes, as she swallowing heavily, her voice thick. "Now what?"

Jareth's lips pulled tight as he looked at the exhausted mortal. What indeed? She had been tainted by an Unseelie who, while his hold over her was broken, would not likely let her remain free of his thrall. Jareth could not in good conscience leave her with such magic and no understanding of how to harness it. There was nothing for it, she would have to be taught - and so would Sarah.

"As Labyrinth Champion you are entitled to choose a lady-in-waiting to be your bodyguard cum companion. Might I suggest you consider having Angel trained for that role?"

"I….you...what?!" Sarah stammered, her verdant eyes wide with surprise. The Goblin King had no need to open the familial link to feel her confusion.

"Precious, in order to free her from Rayvyn's taint, we...you and I...have bound her to us by blood. This binds her to my household, the Labyrinth and the Goblin Kingdom. While that affords her some measure of protection, with her natural magic, she really must be taught to harness it. Since she must be taught to defend herself and other against Unseelie magic, it seems only natural that she would make an excellent companion for you."

"Wait… you mean you're going to teach her to use magic...to _fight?!_ "

"Oh...make no mistake, Precious….Angel won't be the only one taught to use their magical abilities to protect themselves or others," Jareth chuckled, the sound a low purr that rumbled quietly in the stillness of the wind-blown parlor. " _You_ will be taught as well."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Hope you enjoyed this one. Please review :)


	27. A Midnight Understanding

 

Rising, Jareth looked around the parlor and frowned, surveying the damage. Books lay scattered on the floor, thrown from the bookcases, ripped pages strewn around the room. Every planter had been knocked over, and at least two vases were now mosaics of broken porcelain. He walked around the room, his keen eyes taking in every item out of place or broken, then stopped behind the sofa. With a frown, he looked from Angel's grandparents still frozen in the doorway, to Angel, passed out next to Sarah, then shook his head. Turning her head to look at him, Sarah's eyes still glistened with tears.

"Now what? Is it over?"

Jareth nodded silently, his gloved fingers tenderly caressing her cheek. "Yes, at least Angel's role in your current situation is over." His pale eyes fell upon Angels' grandparents once more and he sighed, the black tips of his hair fluttering as he shook his head. "I know I promised you that I would not alter time or memories, but I think, given the circumstances, that such alternation would be the most expedient way to ensure that Angel gets what she needs, and so do you."

Sarah looked around at the mess and the faint blood smears still on Angel's neck and nodded mutely. She wrapped her arms around Angel, and watched as Jareth took a step back from the sofa, his hair falling to frame his face in a way that was both menacing and enthralled her. Swallowing against the uncomfortable dry taste in her mouth, her eyes fell to his hands, the slender fingers encased in tight black leather.

Jareth placed his palms together, moving them in a circular motion. Around her she could feel a strange pulling sensation in the air, and gasped seeing shimmering golden currents appear in the air, swirling around Jareth and collecting between his palms. Murmured words flowed from Jareth's lips, his eyes falling shut with the pull of power. Slowly he pulled his palms apart, his will working the magic into a large, glowing gold orb that pulsed gently. His words became louder as he raised the orb, then released it above his head. With each pulse it seemed to grow larger, until it began to engulf everything and everyone in the room. Fascinated by the sight of the pulsing magic rising toward the ceiling, Sarah shivered and held her breath as it slid over her, like warm water gently cradling her.

The magic continued to grow, flowing outward, while Jareth's droning words rolled faster from his lips. In a blinding flash, the power was released. Sarah flinched, hugging Angel to her as her eyes clenched tight against the bright light. With such a large release of magic, she expected to feel dizzy, or pain, but there was only a gentle swirling sensation around her, before it faded.

When she finally opened her eyes, she found herself in her parlor back at the manor, with Angel laying in her arms on the sofa. Hearing the soft creak of leather behind her, her head whipped around, to see Jareth standing by her little fireplace. The weariness in his face made her heart ache. While he looked the part of the powerful Goblin King, standing tall and fierce in his armor, yet his breathing was shallow and he seemed to be leaning heavily on the mantel. Looking at him, she felt an odd sense of exhaustion rush through her, a fatigue that she did not feel as her own, yet it was inside her just the same. Laying Angel down, Sarah rose, circling the sofa until she stood before him. Raising her hand to touch his face, she hesitated, before dropping it until her palm lay upon the embossed breastplate.

"Jareth...are you okay?"

For several seconds he stared blankly over her head, then slowly placed his warm hand over hers. Dropping his gaze, he gave her a wan smile, the exhaustion clearly showing upon his face.

"I'll be fine, Precious. Moving the very stars takes a rather large amount of energy. I just need to rest," he replied, lifting her hand to his mouth and gently kissing her palm. "I have turned time back to Friday evening." Sarah glanced at her clock and saw that it was just eleven at night. "Angel should sleep until mid- morning. Once you have broken your fast, we will sit her down and explain things to her. For now however, I need… sleep."

Seeing him stagger slightly on his feet, Sarah frowned and slipped her arm around his back. "Lean on me. You don't have the energy to get to your room on your own, Jareth," she frowned.

"I'll call my mother, she can help me, Precious. You should stay with Angel," he replied, trying to remove himself from her grasp.

Shaking her head, Sarah tightened her hold on his side, as she pulled his arm over her shoulders and led him into the hall, the parlor door falling shut with a quiet click behind them.

"Don't be stubborn Jareth. You said she'd sleep until mid-morning, she'll be fine long enough for me to help you. After all you did for her...and for me… it's the least I can do," she insisted, her words quiet but firm.

Despite his weariness, Jareth smiled at her stubbornness – a stubbornness he recognized as a match for his own. Deep down, he was grateful for her help, as his energy was rapidly draining and he would have been hard-pressed to return to his own rooms without assistance.  _'She has the makings of a great Queen,'_ he mused, letting her lead him along the hall. Considering her response to seeing him accept punishment an her behalf, and her insistence upon tending to the cuts, as well as her adamant declaration that she would help him to his rooms, it seemed that Sarah's feelings for him were changing – clearly she cared.

Opening the familial link, he felt along the strands, tasting the flickers of her emotions as they floated to the surface – determination and fear being the strongest. The realization that she feared for him made his heart warm within him. Since her punishment the week before and the way she had sobbed for causing him to endure pain, he had hoped that she might be growing to accept the bond … and him. Her desire to help him when he was weak, and the worry he felt from her, made the hope blossom anew. As they reached the entry to the family wing, Jareth made another discovery – the more she grew to care for him, the more he knew that he loved her and wanted nothing more than to cement the bond between them and make her his.

When they neared the door to his rooms, it opened without a touch, swinging wide to admit them. Sarah guided him into the parlor, her arms shaking with her attempt to bear as much of his weight as she could.

"I'll be fine from here, Precious."

Ignoring him, Sarah continued to lead him through the parlor and into his bedroom. The moonlight shining through the balcony windows cast silvery shadows through his bedroom, giving Sarah enough light to see where she was going. With a quiet grunt, she turned him and eased him to sit on the side of the bed.

"You can't sleep in your armor," she muttered, then glared at him when his hand twitched, a faint golden glow emanating from it. "And don't bother trying to create a crystal to send it away. Save your energy, Jareth. You can deal with the armor in the morning."

"And just who are you to give me orders, Sarah?" Jareth asked, arching an eyebrow at her tone, while his lips curled in a smile.

Even in the pale moonlight of the room, he could see the way her cheeks flushed at his words. The words,  _'Your mate...now stop being a stubborn ass,'_  echoed in his mind, making his lips twitch further despite her profanity.

Sarah hesitated for a moment, dipping her head, then set about unfastening the clasps on his shoulders that held the cape to the breastplate. "Well...as you took great pleasure in reminding me last weekend, I'm still bonded to you. So, I just figure that bonded couples would help each other because…well…theycareabouteachother," she mumbled, her words tumbling over each other. Avoiding his gaze she flipped the heavy cape back onto the bed, then tilted her head from one side to the other, her emerald eyes narrowing as she examined his armor. With a nod, she reached out and unfastened the buckles that held his shoulder spaulders on, carefully setting them aside on a chair.

Jareth watched her silently, marveling at the way she sought to take care of him. Through the familial link he felt the gentle warmth of love wash over him, the sensation so surprising that he felt his heart falter in his chest. He had understood that she cared, but this was the first tiem he felt a hint of love from her, love that was directed at him.

Sarah's touch was light as she worked the buckles of the breastplate, then turned and laid it on an armchair with the spaulders. He felt a momentary pang of indecision from her, before she swiftly grabbed his shirt where it was tucked into his breeches. Without a word she pulled it upward, muttering 'Thanks' when Jareth raised his arms to help her pull it free. Dropping the shirt on the pile of armor, she looked at him. Her indecision flowed along the gentle warmth of love once more, while she surveyed him, her lower lip worried between pearlescent teeth. After several long seconds, she nodded as if reaching a decision, then knelt in front of him. The sight of her kneeling between his kneels made Jareth's heart race at the possibilities, while he sought to push away the more intimate hopes, knowing she was not yet ready for such things.

Reaching down, Sarah lifted his right foot and began to tug on his boot, frowning as it proved difficult. The quiet intake of breath of Jareth's mouth opening, made Sarah grumble as she continued to pull on his boot.

"If you're going to tell me to stop, save your breath, Goblin King. I'm going to help you and that is all there is to it."

A quiet chuckle interrupted her frustrated huffing as she struggled to get the boot off his foot. "I wouldn't dream of it, Precious. I was merely going to suggest that if you wrap one hand firmly around the heel of the boot and angle it toward my toes, it should be easier."

Surprisingly enough, instead of ignoring him or arguing as she usually did when he offered advice, Sarah shifted her hold as instructed and gave a firm pull. The boot slid free in an instant, sending her tumbling backward with a startled squeak. Glancing up at Jareth, she felt her face flame at the amused smile on his face. A deep burn of irritation welled within the pit of her stomach only to fizzle out into confusion by the sudden warmth that seemed to rush through her, filling every cell, around them, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hung heavily in the air. Sniffing, she kneeled up again and grabbed his other boot.

"Do you have scented candles in here? I didn't think they'd be your sort of thing," she commented, keeping her balance this time when the other boot came free.

Tilting his head, Jareth regarded her, wondering at her odd question. "No. Why?"

Sniffing again, Sarah set the boots next to the chair and looked up at him. "I just caught a strong scent of vanilla and cinnamon. Like those cinnamon cookies your mother always bakes for us."

Jareth offered her his hand, smiling when she took it without hesitation. Pulling her up, he sat her next to him on the bed, before speaking.

"Your Fae nature is becoming more pronounced, Sarah. I didn't plan to start teaching you about Fae physiology so soon, much less at this time of night after the amount of magic I expended. However, I want to answer your questions honestly – you are bonded to me and you deserve that respect." Around her the sweet scent of embarrassment flared. "For Fae, smell is a powerful sense and one of the reasons smell is important is that for us, emotions have a scent. Simply put, when we are around others we can smell their emotions. It is something we learn to pick out quite young. Over time, most Fae learn to ignore the scents coming from anyone other than their immediate family members."

"So that cookie smell...is your feelings?" she asked, picking restlessly at the brocade pattern on his bedspread, while avoiding his gaze.

"It is. As a general guide, the worse a smell is, the more negative the emotion that goes with it. Anger, for example smells like ash and brimstone. If a scent is sweet, light or pleasant then the emotion will be more positive. For instance, happiness generally is floral, often roses mixed with vanilla."

"And vanilla and cinnamon...?"

Jareth smiled, his fingertip lightly nudging her chin upward, until her eyes found his once more. Uncertainty and hope rolled through the link in equal measure, sending a flood of warmth through him. "That… is a scent most often associated with intense fondness." A sudden rush of happiness flooded the link, making his bond mark throb pleasantly, as the scent of roses and cinnamon filled his senses.

"You mean…."

"Yes, Sarah. In case you have not yet realized it, I am quite fond of you," he murmured.

Bathed in moonlight from the window, Jareth leaned closer, his hair illuminated until it and his chest seemed to glow with an iridescent sheen. Sarah blinked, the scent of cinnamon and vanilla stronger now, while the odd warmth rushed through her again. As he drew closer, the heat of his body washed over her, eliciting a soft sigh as her eyes fell shut, lost the his unique spicy scent, melding with the scent of his emotion until it seemed to every atom of her being. "Despite all reason, given that you continually defy me and push me away, I am very fond of you, Sarah."

Jareth's lips lightly brushed her forehead, the sensation light flower petals lightly caressing her skin. She felt him breathe deeply, then sit back. Gulping Sarah tried to ignore the sudden warmth that pooled in the pit of her stomach, making it flutter wildly.

"Can you… can you…"

"Smell your emotions?" he finished for her, the low purr in his voice making the heat in her belly drop lower, turning to liquid fire. "I can." Around her various scents rose, tempering the rush of conflicting emotions that roared through the familial link, until he had no choice but to close it, leaving only the bond open. Multiple emotions washed through the bond, with a combination of love, burgeoning desire and embarrassment being the strongest.

"Everything I feel?" she whispered, dropping her gaze to her hands, to resume her restless tracing of the velvet patterns on the bed clothes beneath them.

Tenderly Jareth picked up her hand, cradling it in his own. "Yes. I can sense many of your emotions this way, but we are bonded as well. As such, I can also feel your emotions through the bond, although they are muted, like watching a TV with the sound turned off." Feeling her flinch, Jareth gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. "Ordinarily, Fae can only feel the strongest emotions of their immediate family, but those who are bonded feel the emotions of their mates. It is a protective measure."

"I...I…" she mumbled, embarrassment taking over the link between them.

"Sarah...love… believe me when I say that nothing you have felt is 'wrong' or a problem. There is no reason for you to be embarrassed by anything you have felt while with me or in this house. Even those things that you may find embarrassing are not a problem for me. Everything you have felt is natural and in many cases understandable." Jareth stroked the palm of her hand gently with his thumb as he talked, watching her reaction, all the while sampling the emotions that rolled rapidly through the bond link. "In those who are bonded, feeling one another's emotions is a way of protecting them, while also making the bond stronger. At times, feeling your emotions has helped me to understand you and assist you in your adjustment, but if my having that knowledge makes you unhappy, I will block them."

The strange warmth that engulfed her faded suddenly at his words, replaced by an icy chill that seemed to seep into her bones. Looking up at him, Sarah realized that the sweet scent had also become faint, replaced with the scent of rain and mountain air, a feeling of sadness settling within her - a sadness she suddenty realized was not hers.

Emerald eyes, wide with wonder, studied Jareth's face, as Sarah squeezed his hand. "The thought of blocking the bond makes you sad?"

Jareth nodded, his pale eyes flickering momentarily. "A bit, Precious. To block the link would cause me pain, but more than that, I have become accustomed to feeling your emotions when they are strong. It is… oddly comforting. After years of being alone, to feel you and Toby as a constant part of me has been, calming," he replied, his pale eyes looking more ethereal in the moonlight from the balcony windows.

Frowning slightly, Sarah's eyes dropped to their joined hands, black leather gloved fingers twined through hers, both attempting to posses the other. "Even when the emotions are bad?"

"Sarah… look at me, Precious." Jareth entreated. Smiling warmly when she raised her head once more, he lightly stroked her cheek. "There are no  _bad_  emotions." Jareth could feel her continuing embarrassment despite his words. "Even during l'hrev, there was nothing for you to feel embarrassed by, Sarah. Remember, Fae attitudes toward desire and lust are far different."

"But you...you  _felt_ it…you felt my… _need_ ," she whispered miserably.

Silently Jareth nodded, longing to pull her into his arms and reassure her. "I did and it allowed me to do what I could to help you through that time. That is one of the ways in which this mutual sensing of emotions is beneficial to bonded couples." Seeing the worry upon her face, he smiled caressing her hand. "If you wish it of me, I will block what I can, Sarah. I do not wish for you to be uncomfortable. Not now when we have finally come to… an understanding."

Eyeing him warily, a despondent frown tugged at her lips, as she whispered, "Have you used that knowledge against me? To manipulate me?"

The intensity in Jareth's expression set the fire in her belly roaring. Reaching up, he cupped her face, gloved fingers sliding into her hair, drawing her closer, until his forehead was pressed to hers. Pale blue eyes bore into pools of green, as he murmured, "Believe me Precious, I will never use your feelings against you. Not even your desire. You are young and while we may be bonded, I will not press you when your desires flare. It is your decision, Sarah. I may be the head of the family and must be obeyed in all other areas, but at this time, unless you fully accept the bond and me as your King and mate, that is one decision I can not... _will not_ … make for you. Do you understand?"

Mutely, Sarah nodded, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon pouring from Jareth once more, filling her until she wasn't sure if it was his emotion or her own. Lifting his head, his lips brushed her forehead, as he sighed.

"Now, I think it is best if you return to your room. Angel will be fine on the sofa for tonight. I'll leave word for Mrs. Brown to let you both sleep as late as you want," he said, releasing her.

Rising, Sarah stood in front of him, her hand gently fluffing his hair back from his face. At her tender touch, Jareth longed to wrap his arms around her waist and bury his face against her, drinking in the scent of her. Fighting down the desire, he stayed still, savoring the hesitantly caring touches she chose to bestow upon him.

"Will you be okay?" she muttered, lost in the feel of his silken hair sliding between her fingers.

"I'll be fine now, Sarah. Go to your rooms and sleep. I shall do the same."

Nibbling her lip, she looked skeptical, her hand falling to her side. "No magic?"

Jareth chuckled and shook his head, the fluffed strands waving with the movement. "No magic." After a moment of hesitation, Sarah started toward the door, his words following her. "Not so much as a crystal until morning. I promise, Sarah love." Smiling he felt the bitter scent of her suspicion change to elation, as the rush of warmth poured through the link.

Sarah paused when she reached his bedroom door. Before he could speak to ask if she was all right, she turned and rushed back toward him, swiftly leaning down and kissing him. The kiss was brief, yet filled with the sweetness of newly born love. Then without a word, she fled from the room, leaving Jareth looking after her, nearly drowning in the warm scents of roses, vanilla and cinnamon.


	28. Challenges

**Ch. 29 Challenges**

Staring at the large mirror over the mantel in Jareth's study, Sarah wondered at the surrealness that was her life. It was weird enough that during one of the darkest times of her life she ended up under the guardianship of the Goblin King, but then she discovered that he was not the villain she believed him to be. Add to that the fact that she was bonded to him, and well… those things only added to the odd reality she found herself living in. She had three months to come to terms with things and it still felt like a dream most days.

' _At least it isn't the nightmare I thought it would be,'_  she mused, glancing over at Angel who was seated at the table by the door leading to the marble patio, her head bowed over her paper as she frantically scribbled with her 'lucky' purple pen.

While Sarah had three years and a personal introduction to the Underground to help her wrap her head around the existence of supposedly 'legendary' beings, and a further three months to accept the fact that she was now 'family' to some of the most powerful Fae in the Underground - Angel had only one week to come to terms with things - and really, it didn't even take her more than two hours. Considering all that had happened to her and why, Angel accepted Jareth and Sarah's explanation far better than either of them expected.

The two of them sat her down in Jareth's study and over the course of two hours, a platter of cookies and several pots of tea, Jareth, with Sarah's help here and there, explained what had happened to Angel, and what that meant for her going forward. Jareth presented her with the crystal that held her experiences with Rayvyn - if anything that was the hardest part for her. While the power of Jareth's crystal dulled Angel's emotions relating to Rayvyn and what he did to her, her emotions relating to betraying Sarah and endangering were anything but dull. Angel wept and clung to Sarah, while Jareth sat on the footstool in front of them, gently talking her through things. The quiet care with which Jareth explained things to Angel surprised Sarah. She had expected him to still be angry that Angel had removed the protective charm, yet he never let a hint of frustration or anger into his words. While Sarah soothed her friend, Jareth explained that they both understood why Angel did what she did - and more importantly that they forgave her for her part in things.

After her tears had been spent, Angel perked up a bit at learning that her gut instinct about Rayvyn being non-human had been correct. Finding out that Gareth was really Jareth, a powerful Fae King, thrilled her immensely. Of course, the icing on the cake for Angel was finding out that not only did she apparently inherit her great-great-grandmother's magical potential, but the Goblin King was going to have her trained to use the magic.

Although Angel took most of the news well, the only thing that threw her was the fact that she was now part of Jareth's 'household' and a member of the 'court'. Once Jareth explained further she had looked aghast at Sarah, murmuring, "So  _thats_  what you meant about having to obey him!" Then she frowned and glared suspiciously at him. "Does that mean I'm bonded to you too?"

For his part, Jareth could barely contain his amusement at that. It took another hour to explain his bond to Sarah and its implications. Just thinking of the various details that came out during that part of the conversation made Sarah's cheeks burn brightly. Angel on the other hand was fascinated and could barely wait until she and Sarah were back in Sarah's room before peppering her with questions of a far more 'intimate' nature - which only served to prolong Sarah's embarrassment.

All in all, what had begun as a rather horrible weekend ended with Angel, Sarah (and Sarah suspected Jareth as well) feeling far more at peace with where things stood.

Drawn back to the present by the steady ticking of the gilded clock on the corner of Jareth's desk, Sarah sighed and put her pen down, glaring at the clock. Eight-thirty. Jareth would be calling soon via the crystal sitting in the golden stand. As far as Sarah was concerned, chatting with Jareth was the only good reason for being in his study on a Saturday night, especially since he had been gone all week and had been unable to talk to her, but promised that he would make time tonight. She still couldn't believe that Sir Didymus insisted upon having their usual Underground History and Culture lesson - and no amount of pleading from Sarah and Angel would dissuade him.

"His Majesty has instructed that we are to have lessons every evening in his absence. He said nothing of any time off for the weekend," the little fox-goblin had said, thumping his staff on the wooden floor of the study, as if that ended the argument. "You have very little time left to prepare for the Yule Ball, and must understand the different cultures and various rules that will apply to you upon your coming out into Underground society."

The girls even took their plea over his head, going straight to the High Queen. Although she acknowledged that it was most unfair to have lessons on the weekend, she declined to overturn Sir Didymus' declaration.

Sarah looked back at the clock, then groaned, thumping her head on the desk. 8:31. At the sound, Angel looked up, the grim set of her lips the only outward indication of her frustration. And she had every reason to be frustrated. As payback for going over his head and trying to get out of lessons, Sir Didymus had given them a written exam -an exam that would be graded by Jareth, and there were penalties for scoring less than 90%. Grimacing, Sarah reviewed her answers once more, her mind unwilling to focus on the task at hand. It didn't help that she had been sleeping terribly while Jareth was gone.

The first two nights she laid awake in her own room, sleep remaining just out of reach. She tried reading. She tried warm baths. She tried exercise. She tried meditation. Nothing worked. In the end she lay there, begging for sleep, while fighting the desire to go curl up in Jareth's bed. Sure he had given her blanket permission to do that, but it still seemed wrong to be in his rooms when he wasn't home.

By Wednesday she was exhausted and it was starting to show. Both Titania and Alais commented on the dark circles under her eyes at breakfast. Of course the fact that she spilled her juice, tipped over the jam dish and dropped her flatware on the floor all in the space of five minutes didn't help matters any. In the end, at least one (and more likely both) of them must have tattled to Jareth, because when she arrived at dinner that night, a crisp linen envelope bearing her name and Jareth's seal was sitting upon the ruby glass charger at her place.

_Precious -_

_Mother and Alais are concerned that you do not seem to be sleeping. Remember my offer to you. I would rather not have to make it an order from your King, but I will if I must. I expect you to do what you must to get proper rest in my absence - whether that is through your location or more physical means._

_~Jareth_

While she knew he was referring to her sleeping in his room, she wasn't sure what he meant by 'physical means'. At school the next day, she showed the note to Angel and even now felt her cheeks flame at her friend's matter-of-fact reply - "Damn, the Fae really are more open about sexual things. You get that he's telling you to fap right?" Sarah hadn't gotten that until Angel mentioned it, but it did make sense. Of course the implication of his note led Angel to ask many more 'uncomfortable' questions about what intimacy Jareth and Sarah had shared. When she learned that Jareth had used his fingers on Sarah, the grin on her face didn't fade for the rest of the day. "I don't know why you are holding back. You obviously feel something for him," Angel sighed as they hung up the phone that night.

In Jareth's absence, Titania and Alais had taken over the girls' Fae culture lessons. During a very uncomfortable session on Fae sexuality, led by Titania, they had learned that within Fae culture, they are viewed as adults and free to engage sexually with whomever they should wish. Angel, as expected, was thrilled with that idea, although Sarah suspected she wasn't ready to put her interest into practice. For her part, Sarah was relieved - until Titania held her back after the lesson had ended.

"There is some information regarding bonds and sexual intimacy that I feel  _you_  need to be aware of, but as a human it is not something that concerns Angel at this point," the High Queen had said, sitting Sarah next to her on the sofa in Jareth's study.

For the next hour , Titania lectured Sarah on the intricacies of Fae bonds, the mate bond and the implications of sex in those instances. She stressed that with a bond, such as the one Sarah and Jareth had, sex would set the bond permanently. Seeing Sarah's pink cheeks, Titania had offered an answer to the question Sarah couldn't bring herself to ask anyone - "If you were to set the bond, there are three choices for your future, become his paramour, his consort… or his Queen." As much as the thought of sex with Jareth was her favourite late night fantasy, the reality of what it would mean for her future held her back. She wanted him and knew that he loved her as family and was very fond of her in a more intimate sense, but she still wasn't sure.

Reluctantly, sometime after midnight Wednesday night, Sarah made her way through the halls to Jareth's rooms. She had laid in bed from 9 until midnight and sleep refused to come. Rolling over she saw Jareth's note on her nightstand and knew without a doubt, that somehow, he would know if she didn't do as he suggested. Picking up Mr. Bun, she tiptoed through the halls, cringing at every creak and groan of the old manor house. As before, she didn't even need to touch the door too Jareth's suite, it swung open for her before she even reached it, then gently closed the moment she had stepped inside. She headed straight into his bedroom and saw one of his sleeping tunics laying on the side of the bed she had slept on when she shared his bed - a folded piece of paper laying on top of it. Moving closer, she smiled seeing her name.

_Sarah - a little something extra to help you sleep. I have left an enchantment on the bed that will wake you at 6 so you can return to your rooms before the members of the household are up and about. Sweet dreams. ~J._

Without questioning her decision, she pulled her t-shirt over her head and dropped it onto the foot of the bed, then tugged on the shirt he had left for her. The moment the shirt slid down her flesh, his scent surrounded her, sinking into her skin in a way that she knew meant he had recently worn it. Within moments she began to yawn. Tucking her threadbare rabbit in her arms, curled up on the bed. Mere minutes passed and she was asleep for the first time in two days. When she woke she was tucked under the covers and a single blue rose was lying on the nightstand. Picking up the rose, she sniffed it and smiled at the thought that Jareth had checked up on her.

Thursday night she curled up in his bed, but sleep refused to come. She was lazy, but still couldn't find it. Tossing and turning, she grumbled and thumped the pillows restlessly, when Jareth's words from his note ghosted through her mind …. _I expect you to do what you must to get proper rest in my absence - whether that is through your location or more physical means._

Rolling onto her back in the middle of the huge bed, she sighed, staring at the canopy above her. He had clearly told her what she might need to do, and seemed to have anticipated that she might do so in his bed. Sarah nibbled her lip as she considered the idea. 'It does help sometimes...and Jareth doesn't seem to mind,' she mused, then frowned at herself.  _'Not that it matters if he minds or not. It isn't like I need his permission…'_

' _Just his encouragement then,_ ' chirped her libido being 'helpful'.

Shutting her eyes, she let Jareth's scent surround her, her mind filled with the image of him cornering her in the tunnels. Within moments, she felt her body flush with the telltale tingle of need, her breathing heavy and low. "Hmm...Jareth…" she moaned softly, her fingers sliding beneath the edge of her knickers, to tease lightly against the slick flesh. Feeling his bed at her back, and his shirt sliding silkily over her nipples, Sarah gasped, the excitement of touching herself while in his bed, driving her toward her goal faster than she thought possible. Within moments, she was shuddering and whispering his name like a prayer.

Even the memory of the forbidden excitement in Jareth's bed, made Sarah's face flush brightly - momentarily allowing her to forget the exam she should be checking for mistakes.

A bright flash against the side of her head yanked her from her reverie. Turning to look at Angel, who was grinning impishly, Sarah frowned. "What was that for?"

"You were thinking of Sexy Rexy again...you're blushing," Angel laughed, kicking her booted feet up onto the table and wiggling her eyebrows..

"I thought you were done calling him that."

Shrugging, Angel grinned, "Nothing fun rhymes with 'Jareth'."

Sarah rolled her eyes and glanced down at her exam once more, only to be distracted by the sight of her hair as it hung over her shoulder - hair that was now shockingly, eye-searing purple. Eyes wide she looked at Angel. "Did you do this?!"

In an instant, the battle of hexes and minor curses had begun - both girls conveniently forgetting Jareth's last word on the subject of their magical training before he left for his trip Underground the previous Sunday … absolutely  _no_  unsupervised magical use in the house.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Looking out the window, Jareth watched as the buildings and traffic of Central London fell away, until the landscape looked like a colorful patchwork quilt of streets, office buildings, housing estates and farmland. With a quiet sigh he leaned back in his seat, idly gazing at the receding city, while his mind began to drift toward the woman waiting at home. Deep in thought, his restless fingers absently twirled a golden coin, the glittering coin wove In and out around the slender fingers, a mesmerizing dance of dexterity and precision -not that Jareth noticed, as his attention was a world away.

He had expected his meeting with the Grand Council of the Underground to be a mere formality. He would present the complaint against Rayvyn, and show the Council what atrocities the rogue had inflicted upon Sarah, Angel and the unfortunate boy in the girl's class, then the Council would authorize use of the Shadow Order to capture and return Rayvyn to the dungeons of the Crystal City. Unfortunately, the Grand Council wanted to waste the week debating whether or not it was actually Rayvyn, as his powers were bound before he was banished to the Above. They refused to take Jareth's word for what he had seen when Rayvyn attempted to kill Sarah, even when he offered to submit to memory extraction to prove the matter.

Jareth growled softly, the muscle in his jaw ticking with anger at the memory of the heated arguments in the Council chamber. In the end, eleven members agreed that the Shadow Order should be sent out, but a unanimous decision was required to engage the Shadow Order, and the two hold-outs prevented action.

His father had been sympathetic to his plight, yet even as High King of the Underground, he was unable to overrule the Council where the Shadow Order was concerned. In the end, Jareth was left on his own - and unlike the Council members, Jareth had no reservations about engaging the Shadows to do his bidding when it came to protecting Sarah.

A dark glint shimmered in Jareth's eyes as he looked down over the sleepy villages below. Few in the Underground understood the full duties and power that were associated with being the Goblin King. When the Seelie and Unseelie Courts joined together to ensure the future safety of both the Underground and Above, they agreed that to mitigate the potential for tied Council meetings, a neutral party that was not aligned to either Court was needed. Given the unique responsibilities of the Labyrinth Guardian, they chose the Goblin King as the 'neutral party'. What they did not realize at the time, was in doing so, the Goblin King could draw power from both Courts in order to fulfil his duties and protect his kingdom - and in this instance, protecting the Champion was his duty.

In the quiet of the wee hours of the morning, he sent word to the Shadow Order through his Captain of the Guard Nareen and as the sun rose over Crystal City, Nareen returned with a single black diamond, signifying their acceptance of the request. When the stone turned red, he would know that their mission had been fulfilled.

Glancing down, Jareth saw that the golden coin had changed to the black stone. The stone shimmered in the fall twilight, glinting darkly. Jareth's lips pulled into a tight line, before he flipped the stone into the air where it vanished without a trace. _'The sooner the Shadow Order fulfills my orders, the better,'_  he mused, then turned his attention back to the deepening grey gloom of twilight as it covered the land below.

In the distance, the moon began to rise, glowing gently over the horizon. The pale glow pulled his thoughts from the Order and their dark task, to linger upon Sarah - and more specifically, the stunning visual that greeted him the previous evening. He had known she would seek solace in his bed while he was absent, in fact he had counted on it. Before leaving for the Underground he had enchanted the room to respond to her and ensure she woke early enough to return to her own rooms without being caught by the house servants. When she entered his room each evening, he would feel the wards in the room respond to her. After long days trapped in the Grand Council chamber listening to endless arguments, he relished the chance to check in on her through a crystal, to see her sleeping peacefully in his bed.

Smiling know, he let the memories of the previous evening fill his mind. Still seated in the Council chamber listening to yet more dissention, he had felt the wards signal her entrance to his chambers. When the argument shifted again, he pulled a crystal from the air and idly gazed into it, ignoring the curious looks of others, knowing that only he could see and hear what transpired within the shimmering skin of the crystal. Around him the Council members argued or ignored the proceedings to deal with urgent messages from their own Kingdoms, while the Goblin King watched his intended mate pleasure herself in his bed. He felt his groin tighten as he watched her slide two fingers into her knickers, then arch upward, her eyes falling shut with the sensation.

Jareth felt his blood hum through his veins at the sight, longing for the time he would be able to witness her pleasure in person - and to be the cause of such pleasure.

When the Council finally broke for the evening meal, Jareth vanished from the Crystal Palace to check upon Sarah as he did every night she spent in his bed. The sweet scent of spent desire assailed him the moment he appeared in his bedroom, making his groin throb with the want of her. With moonlight streaming through the window to bathe the bed in its gentle glow, Jareth saw for the first time, what he was sure Sarah would look like when her change to Fae was complete. Her silken hair was spread across the pillows, while the moon cast a shimmering glow over her skin, giving her an ethereal quality. Within him, the primal goblin side that longed to claim her as its mate howled its approval, while he longed to climb into the great bed with her and wrap himself around her to sleep. Sighing, Jareth fought down his urges and merely drew the thick comforter around her. Sarah smiled in her sleep, rolling onto her side and snuggling up, his name whispered happily from her lips, as if she knew he were there.

Warm filled him at her response, increasing his desire to curl up with her and drink in her sweet repose. Smiling, he leaned down, brushing his lips tenderly across her forehead, as the fireplace burst to life, flames crackling softly in the hearth to warm the room for his beloved.

"Sweet dreams, my Sarah."

Then he was gone once more, back to his chambers at the Crystal Palace to continue pressing the Council to act on Sarah's behalf - fruitless though his insistence was to be.

Above him the rotors of the helicopter began to hum louder, drawing him from his reverie as the pilot began the steady descent to the helipad at the back of the manor property. On the ground below he could already make-out Louis waiting with the golf cart. Although he missed his kingdom and even the goblins (not that he would ever admit it to anyone), at this moment, Jareth was happy to be where he was - home with his little family. For centuries he was convinced that family life was not for him, the domesticity and seeing to the day-to-day needs of a wife or child made him cringe; yet here he was. True, he did not yet have a wife, but as far as he was concerned, that was a mere formality. Sarah was his intended and  _would_  become his wife, Queen and mate - it was only a matter of time. And as for Toby, he was already named Jareth's heir in the Above and soon would be named so in the Underground as well. They were his family and he found himself happy with that fact.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

"So how was the first week of lessons for both girls?" Jareth asked Alais upon meeting her in the foyer when he entered the manor.

"Well hello to you too, brother," she laughed, rolling her eyes even as he wrapped his arm around her and kissed her cheek.

"Yes yes, hello Lala. Now tell me me what I wish to know. How were they?"

"Quite good actually. They obeyed your rules and those set by myself and Mother," the Fairy Queen laughed, linking her arm in her brother's as they walked through the house toward his study. "And their lessons went quite well, too. Angel has quite an aptitude for her magic and Sarah was able to tap into hers far easier than Mother and I expected. They rushed through the initial lessons so quickly that we've already moved onto basic hexes, curses and defensive spells."

Jareth glanced at his sister, his smile fading a bit, "And their combat skills?"

Noting his grim look, Alais stopped and frowned at him. "What aren't you saying, Jareth?" she demanded.

"The Council refused Father and my request to bring in the Shadow Order to seek out Rayvyn," he replied, then patted her hand at the angry growl that rumbled in her throat. "Relax, sister. I have taken matters into my own hands and dispatched the Order to do  _my_  bidding. There are additional protections in place, but the girls must be taught to defend themselves both with magic and without.

Alais nodded, and let Jareth continue to lead her along the hallway, their footsteps silent upon the plush carpet. "Well, Sarah is still progressing rapidly. She shows remarkable promise with bladed weapons, in fact. I will have her begin working with Nareen next week, under Didymus supervision of course. Angel doesn't have the same affinity for blades that Sarah does, but with her dancing background the stave seems to be a good weapon choice for her. I'll train her myself. A magical staff could be a very good option to reinforce her magical abilities in combined combat situations."

Nodding, Jareth's mind forged forward, planning to further the girls training. "I'll have Mother commission an appropriate staff for Angel and see to a sword for Sarah myself." Jareth grinned at his sister, "You know, the sword has always been the Goblin Queen's weapon of choice, so really, it is no surprise that Sarah shows an affinity for it."

As they neared the study, the sound of chiming and small thuds began to drift down the corridor, followed by a loud crash. Around her, Alais felt Jareth's demeanor change, his magic humming restlessly. Opening the study door, Alais and Jareth only had a fraction of a second to take in the scene of utter chaos inside. Glowing crystals zoomed willy-nilly around the study, each girl deflecting them as best they could. Angel's skin was a shocking shade of green, and her hair was waving around her head as a mass of purple snakes. Sarah seemed to have fared better in their curse battle, the only curse showing upon her person being the bright purple hair that hung down her back. Still trying to take in the scene inside the study, Jareth and Alais froze, as a blazing purple crystal flew toward Sarah's head. Before Alais or Jareth could intervene, Sarah ducked, her back still to the door as she deflected the crystal with a wave of her hand, oblivious to the shocked look on Angel's face.

A blinding flash of purple filled the room, making Sarah giggle.

"Hah! Missed me!" she crowed, then frowned as Angel mutely pointed over Sarah's shoulder. An icy sensation flowed down her spine, making her stomach drop. Turning around, she groaned and shut her eyes, vainly hoping that if she didn't look, it wasn't true. In the doorway, his hand still on the doorknob, stood Jareth, dressed in the dark grey pinstripe suit that she secretly loved. As always, his clothing and hair were immaculate with one small exception - his hair was purple. Beside him Queen Alais clapped her hand over her mouth, trying desperately to stifle the laughter welling up inside her.

Jareth's eyes narrowed upon the woman who would be his Queen, his lips pursed in a tight light of barely restrained fury. With a snap of his fingers, his hair reverted to its normal fine golden color, yet his eyes seemed to darken further.

"Have you suddenly lost all power of reason?" he growled, glaring from Sarah to Angel, then back.

"Um...no…" Angel ventured, then cringed at the angry scowl Jareth directed at her.

Sarah slowly backed across the room until she was standing next to Angel. Elbowing her friend, she shook her head. "No… Sire," she muttered.

"That's a bit better," Jareth hissed, pinning the girls in place with a stern look. "But it still doesn't absolve the two of you of breaking the rules." Stepping into the room, he folded his arms over his chest, the magic humming around him stilling the remaining curses and making them pop in puffs of black smoke. "If I wanted to, I would be within my right as King to drop you both in the dungeon to await trial! Your magic is too unpredictable...you could have killed me OR Queen Alais!" he roared.

Sarah and Angel cringed, stepping back until they were left without an escape, their backs against a bookcase. "I'm sorry," Sarah mumbled, her eyes on the floor, while Angel's fingers twisted in front of her.

Angel nodded, gulping, "Yeah… me too...we were just…"

"You were just being irresponsible! You two may be young, but you  _must_  learn control - both of your magic  _and_  your impulses." Looking at Alais, Jareth growled, then shook his head, looking from Sarah to Angel. Snapping his fingers again, the snakes in Angel's hair vanished, leaving only the heavy plaits she usually wore - still colored purple from the hex she failed to deflect. "Alais, seeing as Angel is now marked as a sexual slave… take her and deliver her to King Alric of the Trolls. I owe him a boon for the latest trade negotiations."

Alais blinked, her violet eyes widening. "But...Jar…"

"No buts...I've made my decision. Deliver her to the training house in Crystal City and have her broken into her new 'duties', then I want you to take a guard contingent and deliver her personally to Alric. He has a fondness for human sex slaves."

At his words, Angel burst into tears, clinging to Sarah, while Sarah gawped at the Goblin King in shock, her own eyes glistening with tears.

"As for Sarah, tell Cereyse in the training house to have her trained to my more...particular… desires," he ordered Alais, then turned to leave the room. "I expect Sarah to be trained to her new duties within a month, then delivered to the Goblin Castle."

Angel's sobs grew louder, as Sarah hugged her, her own tears trickling down her cheeks. Gulping, she found her voice, her words cracking with fear. "Jareth… please… you...can't… she didn't know."

Turning on her, Jareth hissed, his words harsh, "According to our laws, the purple hair is a sign of sexual slavery.  _You_  know that, Sarah...and I explained that to Angel when I told her to find another hair color accent than her favored purple. By rights, you have both just presented yourselves as _mine,_  so I am therefore free to do as I wish with you...both of you!" The sharp snapping of his fingers echoed through the room, as the hexes on both girls faded. Pointing at the sofa, he growled, "Sit!" Both girls rushed to the couch and dropped onto it, neither one looking at him, as they held hands tightly. "You too, Alais," he added, nodding toward the armchair by the fire. When his sister was seated, he glared at the two girls, somewhat pleased with their cowed postures. "Now that I have your attention, would someone care to tell me what you were doing in here on a Saturday evening in the first place and why you chose to have a battle of hexes? I had expected to find you in the entertainment room or in Sarah's suite."

Still hugging her sniffling friend, Sarah gulped and looked up at him, knowing that if she didn't meet his gaze, he'd only demand it. "We...we were completing an exam for Sir Didymus on Underground History and Culture."

Taken aback, Jareth frowned, his tone softening somewhat at this news. "On a Saturday night? Why in the seven veils would you have a lesson on a Saturday night? It's the weekend…."

Both looking at him now, the girls nodded. Opening her mouth to speak, Angel flinched as if expecting to be reprimanded. When the reprimand didn't come, she nibbled her lip, nodding. "That's what we wondered. He had us in here for three hours last night. He said you told him we were to have a lesson each day while you were away."

Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, "Blast it all! After so long with Didymus you think I would know better regarding his penchant for being absolutely literal." Sighing he looked at the girls, and shook his head, his demeanour thawing fully. "Well then, it would seem that I have a hand, however inadvertently, in your being in my study at this hour on a Saturday night."

Angel wiped her eyes with the sleeve of her sweater, while Sarah sniffed. "We tried to appeal to him but he wouldn't have it," she said, fidgeting with the hem of her own sweater. "We even went to your mother and she agreed with us, but said that your orders to Didymus were clear, so she could not over rule them."

"And Didymus decided to 'reward' our betrayal with an exam on the material we've covered all week," Angel added, scrubbing at her red eyes with her hand.

Sitting in his desk chair, Jareth picked up the exam papers on the blotter and skimmed them, chuckling as he read them. "Angel...really? The King of Dreams is Morpheus? I'm sure Garen will be happy to hear his new name," he laughed, looking at Alais who snickered behind her hand.

"I couldn't remember your brother's name," Angel muttered. "And to be fair, we weren't given time to study."

Pursing his lips, Jareth nodded. "True. And while life isn't fair, I dislike the fact that you were set up to fail in such a way. I understand his logic, but I still do not approve." At his words the girls faces perked up, until he shook his head, his expression stern once more. "That does not absolve you of your lazy answers or your behaviour. So, you will be punished for both." Leaning back in his leather chair, Jareth tapped his steepled fingers thoughtfully on his lips, a devious smirk curling his lips. "You have one week to prepare a joint report on the sex slave culture of the Underground, including general rules, assumptions, understandings  _and_  you will include a special section on some of the more  _extreme_  interpretations of the sex slave custom. You will present your report orally next Friday evening to myself, Alais, the High King and Queen and a select group of guests of my choosing."

Angel gasped, while Sarah paled at his words. "We have to give a speech...on that?!" Sarah demanded, while Angel shook her head in denial.

Jareth shrugged, tapping his fingers on the exams in front of him. "Well, you two are either quite interested in the topic or need additional education on it. While I realize you were likely teasing each other with the information, I need to impress upon you the seriousness of this. Perhaps this research will help. You would be particularly wise to do some research in the library on King Orin's seraglio...that is the only hint I am going to give you. Do you understand that part of your punishment?" Both girls nodded miserably, knowing there was nothing they could possibly say that would dissuade Jareth from this task. "As for your punishment for failing your exams…" Eyes wide Angel and Sarah both open their mouths to protest, until Jareth held up his hand to silence their complaints. "Since it was given as an unwarranted punishment, I will not levy a harsh punishment. Judging from the fact that both of you were carrying several hexes, you clearly need more practice in your offensive and defensive spell casting. Alais will take Angel to the ballroom and oversee her practice for the next two hours. Then she will be delivered to the High Queen for a tete'a'tete regarding her fascination with purple hair and just what that means in our world." Seeing Angel grin, Jareth smirked and shook his head. "Nothing is as it seems, Angel. You may think you got off lightly on this, but I would not be too sure. Alais, what did mother do when you turned up with purple hair after a courting date one evening?"

Alais cringed, her face turning pink. "Mother lectured me for four hours on Underground sexual politics, then had me wear slave silks, a collar and veils to family dinner the next night. I spent the whole weekend chained in whatever room mother was in, on my knees in the positions of service. It was horrible. Jareth ordered me to clean the Bog of Eternal Stench path, with a fairies toothbrush. Garen had me trim the grass in his private gardens using nail clippers and a ruler - each blade had to be precisely 4 milens high. Isolde had me clean her stables dressed in the slave silks, and using no tools but my own hands. It was the most miserable weekend ever."

Angel groaned and covered her face while Jareth chuckled, "Perhaps mother will take pity on you since you are not of our world and still learning." His expression turned serious once more, as he addressed them. "However, you need to learn this quickly, Angel. Human sex slaves are highly valued in the Underground because they are so rare. If you present yourself as such to the wrong person, you are offering yourself to them, and whether you  _mean_  it or not is irrelevant. If they choose to accept the offer, you are theirs and there is legally nothing that myself or even the High King can do about it."

Alais nodded and rose from her chair, gesturing for Angel to join her. "Come on Angel, let's go practice before your chat with Mother." Rising, Angel squeezed Sarah's hand before reluctantly following the Fairy Queen from the room.

With the heavy click of the study door shutting, Sarah's frown deepened. "I'm sorry, Jareth. We were just blowing off a bit of steam. That's no excuse, I know but…."

Jareth held up a hand and shook his head. "I realize you are young and this sort of thing happens, but I can't let it slide." Taking off his suit jacket, Jareth draped it over a chair, then unfastened the cuffs of his shirt and rolled them back up his forearms. "I admit that I was expecting to hear of more disobedience and high-jinx from you and Angel this week. Since you two have apparently been quite good for Mother and Alais, I'm going to cut you a bit of 'slack' as they say Aboveground. We won't record this punishment."

"Thank you," she muttered, still avoiding his eyes. "Can I ask something?"

Settling into his favourite arm chair, Jareth crossed his legs and leaned on the arm of the chair, his head propped up on gloved fingers. "You know you can always ask questions." Gesturing at the chair near him, he smiled.

Sarah looked at the chair, a wave of indecision rushing through the familial link, before she nudged the footstool in front of his chair and sat on it instead. Jareth smiled inwardly, understanding the significance of her choice.

"What is your question, Sarah?"

"Why did you send Angel to your mother? She's part of your household and court now, so doesn't that mean you have the right to punish her?"

"She is and I do. There are several very important reasons why I sent Angel to the Queen for her punishment. First, it is a chance to reinforce to Angel that she is not just part of  _this_  household, but the Royal Household. Second, as you are starting to understand, for some there is a link between pain and pleasure…" Sarah blushed and nodded, avoiding his eyes. "With that in mind, I thought it best to let mother administer a different sort of punishment, as I suspect you would not appreciate your friend associating my punishments with any sort of pleasure." The sudden bitter scent of jealousy that poured from her told him all he needed to know.

"So… what about me? Why do you…."

Jareth reached out and gently caressed her cheek, tilting her face up to look at him. "Because you and I are bonded. It is different for us. Angel's interests and interactions with me are different, Sarah. She would be highly likely to disobey my orders just earn a punishment if she made a pleasurable link between the two."

Ducking her head, Sarah blushed and nodded. "Yeah, I could see her doing that."

"Exactly. However, unlike Angel, you understand why punishment must happen and know that I will not punish you with something you derive pleasure from," he added quietly, caressing her cheek. "And I have made an offer to you that I will  _never_  make to Angel. If you want to experience pain for pleasurable purposes, you have only to ask and I will  _always_  take care of you."

Sarah felt a rush of nervousness run up her spine, but nods. "I...I know." After a few moments, she sighs. "So, what about tonight?"

He chuckled, winking at her. "Oh...you want to experience that tonight?"

Her green eyes widen as she looked up at him, her cheeks flushing crimson. After a moment of hesitation, Sarah shook her head vehemently, the blush upon her cheeks deepening. "What? No! No…" she gasped, then added softly. "Not...tonight."

Still laughing softly, Jareth leaned forward, picking up a tendril of her purple hair. "As for your punishment tonight, since we aren't recording it, we'll do things a little...differently. You clearly need more practice with offensive and defensive casting, so we shall set up a little 'game' of sorts."

Sarah tilted her head, frowning as she looked at him. Rising, Jareth took her hand and pulled her to her feet, then guided her over to stand on one side of the room, before going to stand on the other. With a twist of his hand, he pulled a crystal from the air, then tossed it upward, a brief flash of silver rippling through the room.

"For the next hour, my magic is limited to only those skills you have been studying and my abilities have been bound to approximate your own. So we are roughly even. The winner is the person who lands the most successful hexes in the next hour. If you win, I will take you to London next weekend to spend the whole day doing whatever you want."

Nibbling her lip, Sarah gave him a sheepish smile, her green eyes glittering in the light from the fireplace. "And what if you win?"

Jareth's grin broadened, a predatory glint shining in his pale eyes. "If I win, we still go to London, but we do what  _I_  want to do."

Swallowing heavily, Sarah's back straightened as she looked him in the eye, a glowing crystal appearing in her hand. "Challenge accepted."

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 **Author's Note:**  Believe it or not, we are heading into the home stretch of this story. There are about 10 chapters (give or take) left. As always, please leave a review :)


	29. Dueling Emotions

**Warnings and all that...**

Ahem! As promised, from here on out there is a bit more lemony goodness in this story. We aren't quite up to 'full lemon mode' yet, but we're getting there. :) This chapter contains gratuitous smooching, touching and 'funishment'. Enjoy...and PLEASE REVIEW :)

* * *

Before her words had fully died upon her lips, Sarah threw the glittering crystal upward, then dove behind the sofa nearest her. In the next instant a golden light filled the study, searing Jareth's eyes and forcing them closed. Behind his eyelids, his eyes were filled with bursts of light, flashing randomly. Grunting, he felt for his desk, and crouched next to it, rubbing his eyes with one hand as he cast an elemental ice shield in front of him. When he finally ventured to open his eyes, he had to laugh - she had blinded him, his eyes only registering inky blackness.

"I'm quite sure light stealing and blindness are _not_ part of the basic defensive and offensive spell set, Sarah," he chuckled, enjoying the burst of infectious glee that rushed through the bond link. "However you seem to have forgotten my alternate forms. Sight is not necessary to catch my prey." A sudden burst of embarrassment and lust flooded the link from Sarah. _'Hmm...my Sarah likes the idea of being my prey. Perhaps I shall make her just that when I win.'_

Dropping lower in his defensive stance, Jareth tilted his head, letting his avian senses come forward, his ears training in on the slightest movement that might indicate where Sarah was in the room.

"Your mother said creativity was the key to successful offensive magic and you didn't say 'new' spells were off limits," Sarah giggled, her voice seeming to assail him from all directions at once, confusing his auditory signals. "That's 1 to me."

"Clever girl," he purred, creeping slowly toward the other side of the desk, knowing that the elemental shield would mask his movements somewhat. "Perhaps I should even the odds, hmm?" Jareth heard Sarah's startled gasp as he launched the crystal into the air. With his eyes still rendered useless from her spell, he was unable to see the bright blue flash that filled the room. The only evidence that his spell was effective was the dismayed growl from Sarah.

"No fair," she grumbled. Rubbing her eyes she blinked and frowned, her eyes filled with swirls of black and grey that made no sense visually. With an irritated huff, she began to feel along the cool leather that backed the sofa, slowly moving toward the far side, away from the desk where Jareth was presumably still crouching. "Really, Jareth? Really? _I'm_ blind now?"

"Just for the moment. Fair is fair, Precious."

Hearing a soft thump against the sofa across the room, Jareth swiftly stood and fired two crystals in quick succession toward the noise, then ducked back down by the desk. The first crystal missed it's mark, shattering against a bookcase with a chiming sound, the force of the impact enough to send several books thumping to the carpet. But the second found it's mark, as evidenced by Sarah's startled scream. "I believe the score is 2 to 1, now luv," he laughed.

"Fuck! That's cold!" Sarah squeaked, shivering from the layer of ice that now coated her clothing. Grumbling she bit her lip as her nipples reacted to the cold, tightening further with each teasing rub of her frozen shirt against the pink buds. Unable to see anything more than faint grey mist, she scooted further away from Jareth's voice, a glittering blue crystal forming in each of her hands.

"Language, Sarah," Jareth drawled, as the blindness spell she had cast upon him suddenly failed from her distraction by the cold. Blinking his eyes, he practically purred at the sight of grey shadows filling his vision. Being blind was no true hardship given his avian form, but tracking her would be far easier with grey-scale vision. Jareth deftly plucked another crystal from the air and stalked toward the sofa, his footsteps silent upon the thick silk tapestry of the carpet. "I'd hate to have to add a spanking atop this friendly little game."

Faster than he expected, Sarah bounced up from her hiding spot behind the sofa and launched two crystals at him, then flung herself toward the other side of the room. Jareth grunted as both crystals easily burned through his ice shield and struck home - bursting against his chin and chest.

"Score's 3...to 2!" Sarah snickered from her spot in between two bookcases. Snapping her fingers she pulled her hand downward, a faintly shimmering shield appearing to barricade her into her hiding place.

Dropping onto the sofa, Jareth looked down, laughing at the fact that his shirt was now missing, and his hair was once again purple. "Naughty, naughty, Sarah luv. Is there a reason you are attempting to divest me of my clothing and mark me as a royal sex slave? Dear me, just what sorts of ideas _has_ Angel been planting in your devious mind, Precious?"

"Shit...did I?" Sarah gasped, poking her head out of her hiding place before remembering that she couldn't actually see him. Squeaking, she pulled her head back as a crystal whizzed by her cheek, smashing against the bookcase near with a blistering crash..

"Second warning for the swearing, darling. Or perhaps you _want_ a proper punishment, hmm?" he purred, his smirk growing as the sweet scent of desire began to float through the air around Sarah, drifting toward him with her heated breaths. Grinning, he lay flat on the sofa, his bare chest against the smooth leather. Without looking, he flicked three crystals over the back of the couch toward Sarah's stronghold. The first shattered against the shimmering shield she had conjured, disrupting it long enough for the second and third crystals to hit her, a strangled yelp of surprise filling the room. "Ahh...I do believe the score is now 4 to 3. Care to call a truce…"

Sarah crept low along the floor toward the sofa, following Jareth's unique spicy scent. "Not a chance, Goblin King!"

HIs chuckle rumbled around her, seeming to echo inside her skull. Her stomach quivered at the sound.

Hearing the hitch in her breath, Jareth's smile widened, as his hand lazily ran over his sigil of office. "Oh, so we're being formal now, are we _Champion_? Are you sure you wouldn't like to declare a truce and move on to a more _pleasurable_ punishment?" Through the link he felt a sudden rush of indecision and desire, tinged with nervousness.

As Sarah crawled nearer to Jareth's position, the scent around him changed, surrounding her with the heady notes of cinnamon and musk. She knew Jareth had said that vanilla and cinnamon were the scent of love, but musk threw her. A moment later she felt her entire body tremble as a sudden rush of desire flooded her, a desire that was as strong as her own, but felt distinctly masculine. Shaken by the realization that not only was Jareth enjoying their battle, it was having a distinctly sensual effect on him, she smirked to herself, two more crystals easily forming in her hands with a simple thought.

"In your dreams, Fairy Boy!" she chirped, tossing the crystals upward, then scrambling back into her hiding spot.

The shimmering crystals arced up until they reached the back of the sofa, before dropping quickly to land on Jareth's back. His shocked laugh rang out through the study.

"Apparently it is _your_ dreams we are enacting, darling. I didn't know you liked my Underground wardrobe so much," he chuckled, stretching out further at the feeling of the tight leather breeches that now encased him from the waist down.

From her corner, Sarah muttered under her breath, "Damn…that's not what I wanted to do."

"Third strike. You're out, Sarah!" Jareth declared, launching himself from the sofa and firing a barrage of crystals into her hidey-hole.

Shrieking with giggles, Sarah fired crystals back at him as fast as she could, until a loud ringing sound filled the room, drowning out the rapid crashes, clangs and thuds of their crystals.

"Times up!" she giggled.

The sight of Jareth with purple hair and his bare torso covered in green spots only served to make her giggles louder. Shaking her head, Sarah held up her hands in surrender, gasping to hold back her laughter as she tried to speak - and failed repeatedly. Jareth deftly grabbed her hands and pulled her to her feet, her vision clearing the moment he touched her. Before she could fully register what was happening, she was spun around, then pulled down once more onto her stomach over a pair of muscular thighs. The smell of leather surrounded her, melding with the cinnamon, cloves and vanilla - the combination sending an immediate burst of warmth sizzling down her spine to pool hotly between her thighs. Her punishments had always been officious, this was the first time he had put her over his lap and she wasn't sure what to do or how to take it.

"Wait...no...I don't think...Jar…" she started to protest, reaching behind her to cover her bum, while her stomach fluttered wildly against his thighs. Without a word, Jareth grasped her wrist in his left hand, pinning it in place at the small of her back. Sarah gasped, then trembled as his right hand came down firmly on the rounded curve of her ass. The strike was hard enough to burn briefly, before settling into a teasing warmth that throbbed with the frantic beating of her heart.

"I think ten swats should remind you to watch your language," he purred, bringing his hand down sharply again, the sound ringing out in the silence of the study.

Sarah squeaked, opening her mouth, only to snap it shut when instead of a protest, a hungry moan slipped past her lips. By the fourth forceful swat, she had lost her desire to protest. By the fifth, it seemed all reason had fled, as she rocked her body forward, using the firmness of Jareth's leg to press the seam of her jeans tighter between her thighs. The pressure on the sensitive bud of her clit made her hiss and arch with pleasure, pushing her ass back toward Jareth's hand. The remaining strikes were a blur of jarring force, pushing her clit harder against the thick seam of her jeans, while rubbing her breasts against Jareth's lap. Her taut nipples sent continuous jolts of pleasure to her core from the way they pinched and pulled against the icy fabric of her shirt and his thighs. Each stroke and movement of her body pushed her closer to the edge, the pleasure starting to send gentle ripples outward from her core, each one growing stronger, until she was groaning and straining toward the peak, heedless of the way she must look, bent over his lap and fighting back moans.

Shutting her eyes tight, Sarah gave in to the sensation, her breath coming in heated pants againsts, as her head hung over the other side of Jareth's lap. After the ninth swat, she felt a sudden pulsing pressure against her side, a low moan falling from her lips at the realization of what it was - and just how much enjoyment Jareth seemed to be getting from her 'punishment'.

The moment the tenth swat landed, Jareth pulled her upright, but didn't release her, instead settling her on his lap. She felt her cheeks burn at the feel of his rigid arousal, pressing firmly beneath her bum. When it flexed again, she bit her lip against the needy moan that tried to escape, then shifted slightly.

"Easy there, luv," Jareth groaned, taking a deep breath as he tried desperately to control his own desires in the face of the scent of sheer need pouring off Sarah. He had not intended for their game to end like this, but if the strength of the desire she was flooding the link with was anything to go by, she wanted it as much as he did, and was enjoying it more than he dared hope. Fighting down the longing to kiss her senseless, Jareth shifted her more comfortably on his lap, somewhat relieved when she was no longer sitting quite so 'on top of' his erection.

"Now then… we must speak about what has just transpired, Precious," he began, his voice rough and low. Feeling Sarah tremble against his chest, Jareth smiled, wrapping his arm more firmly around her lower back, his fingers lightly caressing her hip. "In the spirit of the duel, your 'punishment' just now was anything but serious. You and I both know you enjoyed it far more than one _should_ enjoy a punishment."

Feeling her cheeks burn hotter, Sarah ducked her head in a sheepish nod, her hair falling across her face to offer a brief respite from the knowing look in his eyes. She could feel the damp heat between her thighs, while her clit continued to throb needfully. The feel of his fingers on her hip only enflamed her more, refusing to give voice to the wish to feel them thrusting deep inside her once more, until she had no choice but to come apart around them. At the mere thought of his intimate touch, her breath caught in her throat, making her whine softly.

"Know this, Sarah mine… this 'funishment' tonight is a one-off. The next time you use language unbecoming a Queen, the punishment will be most real and quite unpleasant. Do you understand?"

Gulping, Sarah nodded again, swallowing down her moan.

"No, I need to hear the words, Sarah. Do. You. Understand?" he demanded, his words gentle, but insistent.

"Yes...Sire…" Sarah murmured, her eyes resolutely upon her hands, as they twisted in her lap.

Her choice of phrasing was not lost on Jareth. A warm smile curled his lips, seeing the bashful way she avoided looking at him. Reaching up, he gently nudged her chin upward. Around them the scent of desire and embarrassment surged once more.

"Sarah, it is perfectly acceptable for couples and lovers to play such games in my world, as well as in the Above. But you must understand that pain for pleasure and pain for punishment must be vastly different if they are to be effective. What we have discovered tonight is that spanking is no longer an effective punishment for you. You enjoy it."

At his words, Sarah attempted to drop her head, only to gasp when he leaned in and kissed her. His lips were light against hers, a whisper of silk that teased her enough to keep his gaze when he broke away.

"Truth be told, I'm glad you enjoy it. I think you are fully aware of the effect it has had upon me," he chuckled, his cock twitching under her thigh, making her snicker softly. Feeling her relax, Jareth nodded. "So, in future, if _you_ want to play little games like this, please do not purposely break rules. Either outright ask me for what you want or find another way to instigate it. You're a clever girl, I'm sure you could come up with another scenario that would allow you to get your needs across without fully admitting it, hmmm?"

Seeing the way Sarah licked her lip, Jareth groaned inwardly, and lightly stroked her lower lip with his thumb. "For now, I think you had best hurry off to bed, lest I forget I am your guardian and a gentleman, and not the male who is bonded to you," he sighed, lightly teasing his thumb down her throat and across the top of her breast, to tenderly stroke the bond mark.

Sarah's eyes shut, as a wave of warmth and pleasure rippled through her.

"Bedtime, Precious. Off you go," Jareth instructed her, setting her back on her feet.

Still distracted by the pleasure she felt from his touch on the bond mark, Sarah nodded, then frowned slightly, her words a mere whisper. "Who won?"

Tilting his head, Jareth paused a moment, surprised at her words, then burst out laughing, the sound like rich velvet, caressing her ears. "I think we both got what we needed out of tonight, Sarah. Does the winner matter?"

Sarah nibbled her lip momentarily, then nodded. "Yes. It does."

"That's my Champion… competitive to the end," Jareth chuckled. He looked her over, taking in her purple hair, the red and black horns that were curling up from her head, and the raised green spots that covered her face. Snapping his fingers, all of the enchantments on the both of them faded. "After the last barrage of spells, it is impossible to tell who won before the alarm. So I think it is best to declare our duel a tie." Shaking his head at her pleased grin, Jareth rose, shifting his leg to try to adjust the evidence of his arousal more comfortably, the tight leather trousers doing little to hide it. His lips quirked at the way her eyes skimmed down his chest to his groin, the flush in her cheeks growing brighter, while her eyes darkened hungrily. "Now you'd best get to your room, Precious... before we let things go further than you are ready to go."

Licking lips without thought, Sarah nodded, pulling her eyes back to Jareth's face. "Um...yes… um...goodnight," she muttered, before turning and fleeing from the study.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

' _If Jareth thought sending me away would make me want to jump him any less, he's sadly mistaken,'_ Sarah mused, as she made her way back through the manor to her room. _'Fuck...since when did jumping Jareth even become a 'thing' for me?'_ With each step, her slick clit rubbed against the damp cotton of her knickers, the thin material sodden with her own need. Reaching the steps leading to the wing she shared with Toby, Sarah felt thick drips dribble from between the throbbing folds, making her stomach quiver further. _'I am in soooo much trouble. Yup. Damn him. And damn me too.'_

As much as she wanted to believe this was all Jareth's fault, there was no denying that she wanted it and enjoyed it, just as much as he did. He hadn't touched her in any intimate way, yet here she was, dripping with want and sure of one thing - it was only a matter of time before she gave in and accepted the full bond and all that went with it.

Reaching her suite, she saw that the door to the guest room off her parlor was shut, soft snores rumbling within telling her that Angel's punishment had finished as well. Sarah tiptoed through the parlor and shut herself away in her own room. The moment the door clicked home, she began to peel off her clothes. In the short time it took her move from Jareth's study to her room, her need had grown, until the barest touch of her clothing seemed to drive the desire further, teasing her flesh until every nerve screamed for release. Sarah stumbled slightly as she kicked her jeans from her feet, leaving her knickers tangled in the twisted ball of denim on the floor. Her shirt was tossed carelessly on the padded bench that sat at the foot of her bed, then two vicious tugs saw her bra dropping on top of her shirt.

She didn't touch the light on the nightstand, there was no need to see what she was doing. Reaching down, she grabbed the covers and tugged them back, before flopping on the bed with a groan. The last time Sarah felt this level of sheer need had been during her l'hrev cycle, and the ferocity of the desire both added to her arousal and worried her. For a brief moment she wondered if her next l'hrev cycle might be starting. Grabbing the drawer pull on her nightstand, nightstand, Sarah blindly reached inside. The moment her fingers clasped the cool, smooth crystal Jareth had gifted her with, all concern for anything other than finding her own pleasure faded from her mind.

At her touch, the crystal changed, elongating into the ridged glass toy, with gentle raised swirls dancing over the shimmering surface. Letting her thighs fall open, Sarah relaxed onto the bed and in one easy movement slid the cool glass inside, each swirl teasing and tantalizing her. Her entire body was so keyed up from the spanking in the study, that each thrust of the glass into her slick channel drove her closer to the peak. In moments, she reached the crest, sparks flashing behind her clenched eyes as she flew up and over.

"Jareth!" she gasped, arching from the rush of the release that roared through her. Her body clenched down upon the toy, sucking it deeper inside with the force of the contractions.

Panting, Sarah fell limp on the bed, slowly dragging the fingertips of one hand up her body. Tiny aftershocks shivered through her, making her tremble, a slow smile curling her lips. "Wow. Fastest orgasm ever," she giggled, savoring the languid 'post-orgasmic' bliss that seemed to cocoon her.

After several long minutes, Sarah sighed, her fingers grasping the bulbous end of the toy, tugging it from within, with a wet, sucking sound, that made her cheeks burn. The first time she ever touched herself was the night after her Labyrinth adventure, her fingers teasing tentatively around the sensitive bud, while Jareth's voice whispered in her mind. For the next year it became almost a nightly ritual. Over time, boys from her classes took Jareth's place in some of her fantasies, as her crushes came and went - but Jareth was the one enduring constant. Reaching release was always easiest when she let dreams of Jareth fill her mind, but even then, she had never been as wet pleasuring herself then, as she was tonight.

Depositing the toy back into the nightstand, Sarah sighed deeply, relishing the sense of contentment that washed over her. As much as it embarassed her to admit, if this is what a little pain for pleasure did for the intensity of her release, she could see why people would make it a regular part of their 'play'. Rolling over and pulling the blankets up around her chin, Sarah purred lazily and shut her eyes, as images of Jareth spanking her in his bedroom played through her mind.

"Damn...I am in sooooo much trouble," she moaned, shutting her eyes and willing herself to ignore the deep itch within her that still demanded to be scratched.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Jareth didn't need a scrying crystal to know what Sarah would do when she returned to her room - it was the same thing he intended to do when he reached his own suite. The cloying sweetness of lust that filled the study between both Jareth and Sarah's need, would rival that of a Fae orgy. Transporting into his own bed, his clothing fading away in an instant, Jareth idly wondered how Sarah would react when faced with her first Fae festival with a sexual component.

Before he could settle into bed, he felt the bond mark begin to pulse and throb, a sudden rush of lust flooding the link. "That's it, Precious… quench your need," he purred, taking himself in hand as he leaned back upon the pillows that lined the head of his bed. His hand wrapped firmly around the thick shaft, slowly stroking upward in time with the throbbing of the bond mark, his wrist twisting slightly at the end of each stroke. The intensity of the pleasure pulsing through the mark increased quickly. Groaning deeply, Jareth kept tempo with each searing beat. Without warning, Sarah's release rushed through him, the strength of it forcing his own release. Heated streams splashed against his chest, pooling wetly as he continued the firm strokes, growling when the last drop slid from the sensitive tip.

With the completion of his release, Jareth's head lolled back on the pillows, letting the the slow flow of contentment that threaded its way through the bond link wash over him. Jareth relaxed, a smile quirking the corner of his mouth. "Hmm… if this is how it feels to pleasure ourselves separately, I look forward to seeing the heights we can reach together."

After basking in the warmth of Sarah's release and contentment for some time, Jareth felt Sarah's heart line twist around his as she found sleep. Blocking the link, he sat up, cringed at the clammy, tightness on his chest. With a wave of his hand, his chest was cleared of the mess, and he was clothed in his favored pair of lounging pants. Humming quietly, Jareth fluffed the pillows behind him. "The only thing that would make this more enjoyable, would be having her curled up beside me," he muttered, as he picked up the book on his nightstand and flipped it open. The light on the nightstand illuminated his side of the bed with a gentle rosy glow, leaving the rest of the room cloaked in the grey shadows of the waning moon. All in all, it had been an illuminating and quite enjoyable evening.

Just after 1 in the morning, Jareth felt Sarah trip the ward on his parlor door, the action sending a gentle vibration racing up his spine and pulling his attention from the words in the the familial link he felt her trepidation, tinged with the bittersweet sensation of loneliness. A moment later, he felt the bond mark tingle. Tilting his head, he glanced toward the door, smiling warmly at Sarah as she stopped in the doorway, her green eyes wide in surprise. She was wearing his silk shirt, the laces loose across her breasts, displaying a tantalizing glimpse of creamy flesh. Peeking from under the hem of the shirt were her faded flannel shorts. On any other woman, such shorts would be offensive, but on Sarah, Jareth found them alluring, showing off the lean expanse of her legs.

"OhmyGodIdidn'tthinkyouwerehereithoughtyouwereUnderground!" she stammered, twisting her hands into the hem of the shirt.

"Wait...it's okay, Precious. You're more than welcome in my room, I've given you explicit permission," Jareth replied, closing his book. His fingertips caressed the worn linen cover, while he watched the nervous young woman, her indecision warring with her desire to be near him.

"No...you're busy. I'm sorry...I'll...I'll go," she sighed, turning to leave.

Jareth flicked his hand toward the bedroom door, sending it slowly swinging shut before she could reach it. "Sarah...stop." Biting her bottom lip, Sarah's indecision was nearly palpable in the silence of the room, broken only by the steady ticking of the clock on the mantel. "For whatever reason, you draw comfort from being in my space or near me, and that is okay. I have promised you that should you need me, I will always be there… even if all you need to someplace you can feel safe to sleep."

Jareth's words struck her far deeper than she expected, a lump rising in her throat at the gentle look of understanding he gave her. Sarah wanted nothing more than to join him in the big bed, and sink into the plush goose down, to be safe and protected from all of her fears, if only for the few hours left of the night. Smiling warmly at her, Jareth lifted the blankets on the empty side of the bed.

"Come here, love. You need rest."

Nodding, Sarah felt her feet moving forward, carrying her toward Jareth and his bed. Without a word, she settled into the empty spot, her stomach fluttering with an odd warmth as Jareth leaned over, tucking the comforter around her. Winking at her, he casually kissed her forehead.

"Now sleep, Precious," he ordered her quietly, then settled himself comfortably against the stack of pillows once more and flipped open his book.

Sarah rolled toward Jareth, yawning as she lazily looked at him. "What's that smell? Like hmmm...spicy oatmeal cookies?"

Arching an eyebrow, Jareth chuckled softly. "That is the smell of sated desire, Precious."

Next to him, Sarah's cheeks flushed brightly, her embarrassment flooding the link. "Oh...did you...um…"

"I did," Jareth replied, amused by her reaction, the flush of her cheeks spreading downward to creep between her breasts. "I see no reason to hide it, Sarah. It's a perfectly natural way to relieve stress and achieve release. You know full well how our little 'game' earlier affected me." Blushing further, Sarah nodded, letting the covers creep higher. Jareth gently caressed her cheek, winking at her. "Besides, if we're being honest, I wasn't the only one who took care of themselves, was I?"

Feeling sure her face was now glowing like a beacon, Sarah rolled over, pulling the covers over her face to hide from his knowing smile. "What are you reading?" she finally mumbled, her words muffled by the heavy blankets.

"King L'santhian's Treatise on Fae Political History."

"That sounds boring."

Jareth laughed softly, his hand lightly rubbing her back through the blankets. "I admit, it isn't exactly Stephen King, but it is interesting in its own way, I suppose. Especially since L'santhian will be at the Yule festivities and will no doubt wish to discuss his dusty tome of ideas. While you have your looks and the novelty of being new to Underground society to distract him from such a dull conversation, I on the other hand have no such distracting abilities - therefore it seems best that, of the two of us, I should be well-versed in his views."

"Would you...um… read to me?" Sarah mumbled, then rushed to add. "My dad used to read to me when I couldn't sleep and...I kind of miss it. It was always…."

"Soothing, yes...I know that feeling from my own childhood, Precious." Still rubbing her back in slow, gentle strokes, Jareth turned his attention back to the book in his hands. His voice was soft as he began to read, the lilting cadence of the Fae language lulling the woman next to him into a deep and dreamless sleep.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

**AUTHOR'S NOTE:** As always, please leave a contribution in the little box...at the moment reviews are inspiring my creativity in many ways.


	30. Friday I'm In Love

**As always, please review. The reviews are inspiring me to plot out a second volume...so stay tuned!**

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**Ch. 31 Friday I'm in Love**

It had been more years than he could count, since Jareth had regularly shared a bed with the same woman night after night, and a lifetime since he had allowed anyone, male or female, to wake up with him in his own bed.

But Sarah was not just 'anyone'.

Jareth continued to spend his days Underground or in London seeing to his kingdom and business holdings; but no matter where he spent his days, each night found him in his room at the manor. He could feel that Sarah's sleep was far deeper and more restful when he was there, than when he was Underground. She seemed more content after such nights, a feeling he was happy to foster in any way he could.

In a mere week she had gone from making excuses for her need to seek him out, to silent acceptance that no matter how wrong it may sit with her mortal sexual mores, her place was with him. In his bed - and in his arms if she wished it.

Some nights she crept into his room as soon as the servants retired to their quarters, for the evening. On these nights they would talk of their day over steaming mugs of rich chocolate. He loved those chats more than he ever imagined. In these casual moments when she was relaxed and happy, the walls she still held would fade and she would share her true nature with him, relating the antics of the boys and girls at her school - antics which she found juvenile, but amusing. He would watch in awe at the way her eyes lit up while she retold tales of her school day, her past with her family and Toby's childhood. During these unguarded evenings, Jareth drank in the warm sound of her laugh, storing it away to replay during quiet times of his own.

When the lights were doused for the night, they would settle down together in the middle of the big bed, spooned against one another, as they continued to talk. Sarah would share her dreams and fears, or ask him questions about his life, his dreams and yes, even his fears. And he always answered her, his honesty amusing and suprising her at times. Their chats would go on until one of them fell asleep - usually Sarah, since Jareth did not want to miss a moment of having her in his arms.

Then other nights she would creep into his room without a sound as he read. He didn't need the bond to feel her mood, her body told it all. She would enter with her head down, her green eyes so dark they were nearly black. Her jaw would be set so tightly he sometimes worried she might break a tooth. Quiet and closed off, her entire demeanour screamed 'leave me alone' - yet still she sought him out. He learned quickly that at those times she had things on her mind that she was not yet willing to share, so he did what he could to support her. Instead of attempting to draw her thoughts from her, he simply raised the covers for her, allowing her to slip into the bed next to him. She would comply, hugging the far side of the bed, as if building an invisible wall between them, a wall he refused to breech. With no other acknowledgement of her need to join him, he would begin reading aloud from whatever dusty tome he happened to be reading that day. Sometimes she laid there brooding silently until he turned out the light. Other nights she would fall asleep quickly, the sound of his voice soothing away whatever worries were plaguing her. If she had been soothed sufficiently into sleep, he would find her wrapped around him like a brunette limpet in the morning, her hair draped over his skin, as she slept with her head upon his chest. Even in her sleep, she would seek him if she needed it.

Still there were nights when she would enter his room in the wee hours of the morning. He would feel the ward trigger when the door opened for her. Silently he would lift the covers for her, inviting her to join him. She would say nothing as she slipped into the big bed. But unlike the other nights, she would roll toward him, pressing herself against his side, her arm wrapped over him, holding him tight as if she were afraid he might disappear before she awoke. Her need for him was different on such nights. He could feel it in her timid, yet desperate embrace that she needed his strength and the surety of his protection. When she was settled, her body molding to his side, he would roll toward her, wrapping his arms around her, to cage her in his arms, protecting her from whatever left her needing such solace. The first time he had done so, Jareth half-expected her to tense up or pull away. Instead she gave a small whimpering sniff and relaxed further against him. On these nights he would lie awake for hours, keeping watch over the sleeping woman in his embrace, guarding her from her own thoughts and dreams that seemed to trouble her. She was his in these stolen moments, and he cherished the fact that she sought him out. He would not let her down.

Thursday evening had been one of the nights when she snuck into his room earlier in the evening. She arrived just after 9:30, well before the staff locked up the house for the evening and retired to their wing. Her cheeks were flushed and her eyes bright with mischief when she bounced in, carrying a basket covered with a crisp golden napkin and a large thermos. For the first time all week, she didn't even wait for an invitation before dropping onto the bed next to him with a cheeky grin.

"I've been thinking about this weekend," she announced without preamble, her hands digging into the basket and pulling her stuffed rabbit out of it. Barely pausing for breath, she sat the toy on the nightstand on her side of the bed and continued, "I'm not familiar enough with London to know what I want to do, so how about if I tell you the sorts of things and let you decide what fits them? I mean I know I'd like to go to the big arcade near the huge Virgin music store. And I'd like to have proper high tea somewhere. And I want to go someplace with a pretty garden. I need some landscape paintings for my art class portfolio, so I figured I could do some base drawings while we are out."

Arching an eyebrow at her, Jareth chuckled, letting his book fall shut on his lap."Hello to you too, Precious. As to your requests, I believe I can come up with things that will meet your particular demands." He watched her dig through the basket, an indulgent smile tugging at the corners of his mouth."I see you have been up to mischief in the kitchen. Just what have your purloined, hmmm?"

"I nearly got caught by Mrs. Brown," Sarah giggled, then frowned as she looked at the basket and the thermos. "Shiii….sugar, I forgot to get mugs," she grumbled, then glanced up at Jareth from behind a fall of brunette locks, giving Jareth a sheepish grin at her near slip. Jareth laughed quietly and waved his hand toward her, a pair of ceramic mugs appearing on the bed next to the basket. Sarah resumed her rummaging through the basket while she talked. "Thanks. I thought I'd make us a treat tonight. You always conjure things for us, so I wanted to repay the favor. I waited outside the kitchen until I was sure they were all gone for the night. Once I got inside and had just found a basket, Mrs. Brown and Chef Thom came out of the pantry! It was either risk being seen or duck into the cold room."

"That explains the flushed cheeks," Jareth chuckled, reaching out and touching her cheek. "You're chilled through, Sarah." With a snap of his fingers, the feathery down of his cloak gently floated down to caress her shoulders, enveloping her in his scent and warmth.

"Um...thanks again," she replied, the pink tinge in her cheeks growing for a reason other than cold. Shyly, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as she nibbled her bottom lip. Through the link Jareth felt her pleasure at the gesture. "I was stuck hiding behind a stack of boxes in the cold room for nearly 15 minutes before they stopped yaking with each other and left the kitchen. Then I stayed there another 10 minutes just to be good and sure they weren't coming back." Opening the thermos, she poured hot chocolate into one of the mugs and offered it to him, the scent of rich cocoa filling his senses.

"Did you make this?" he asked, his eyes falling shut as he inhaled the heady spices, his eyes darkening at the telltale hints of honey, cloves, cinnamon, cardamom and chili.

With a bashful nod, Sarah watched him, clearly waiting for him to taste it. "It's the recipe that Karen taught me. She always made this version for herself and Daddy, because it was more 'adult' than what she made for me and Toby." Looking flustered, she added, "But there's no alcohol in it or anything."

"Relax, Sarah. You are of age in this country, so I wouldn't scold you for adding a bit to this if you wished to. All I ask is that if you want to drink, you do so with me, or one of the other adults in the house." Smiling at her, Jareth sipped the heady brew in the mug, then purred as the sweet heat of it slid down his throat, warming him in more ways than one. "It is delicious, Sarah. Thank you," he murmured. "Your step-mother must have a bit of kitchen witch in her."

Sarah paused in the process of taking a sip. Cradling her mug in both hands, she gave him a quizzical look, her green eyes narrowing pensively. "Why do you say that?"

"Everything in this mug except the milk has aphrodisiac qualities… chocolate, cinnamon, cloves, cardamom, honey and chilies," Jareth replied, amused by the sudden rush of dismay and embarrassment that flooded the bond.

"Oh...I...I didn't know," she mumbled, dropping her mug lower, before putting it on the nightstand, as if afraid to touch it.

"Sarah, relax. A little kitchen witch magic is not going to alter my feelings in any way," he said, taking a larger sip of the steaming drink.

"I know...I mean...you've got lots of magic, so it wouldn't possibly affect you," she muttered, the happiness she had felt now masked with confusion. "I just...I don't want you thinking I was trying to...manipulate you."

The warm, rich sound of Jareth's laughter filled the room. Putting his mug aside, he pulled Sarah closer, wrapping his arm around her as he kissed her forehead. "Precious, I  _know_  that. And you already know how I feel, so your inadvertent 'potion' is unlikely to change that."

Seeing the confusion etched on her face, while a faint tendril of hope flickered through the link, Jareth lightly caressed her cheek, turning her face toward his. His lips met hers in a gentle kiss, that elicited a quiet sigh from Sarah, her lips parting slightly. Despite his desire to tease his tongue past her lips, he held back, breaking the kiss. Smiling at her, Jareth let his fingertips continue to stroke her cheek.

"Sarah, I'll speak plainly since that is what you seem to need. I care for you, but more than that, I love you." The burst of relief and happiness that flooded the link amused him, as did her attempt to deflect his confession.

"Um...I've got cookies too," she whispered, her eyes dropping to the basket on the bed.

Jareth chuckled, picking his mug back up and sipping from it. "Oatmeal spice cookies. I can smell them. Unless that is just the scent of your feelings for me, hmm?"

"What...I um… that is…" Sarah hung her head lower, letting her hair fall forward to hide her burning cheeks.

Reaching over, Jareth lightly placed his finger across her lips, shaking his head. "Shh… it's okay, luv. Just like you can feel me when the emotion is strong, I can feel you as well. I did not speak the words just to twist you into parroting them. You will say it when you feel ready, and that is good enough for me." Beneath his finger, Sarah's lips opened, poised to speak, only to fall shut when he smiled at her and shook his head once more. "Now then, no fair threatening me with cookies and not offering me one. I'm quite sure that is a 'funishable' offense."

Sarah's smiled returned slowly, as she pulled the starched napkin from the basket, revealing a full dozen cookies nestled inside. For another hour they drank the hot chocolate and did their best to polish off the cookies. The easy camaraderie of earlier evenings returned, as the two of them chatted about the usual sorts of things, while Sarah studiously nudged the conversation toward anything but their feelings.

When the last cookie crumbs were cleared away and the thermos was empty, they settled down for the evening, curled up together in the dark, talking quietly. Eventually Jareth fell silent, the conversation dying down. Feeling him breathing slowly behind her, his heart beating steadily against her back, Sarah smiled in the dark. His arms around her were warm and firm, sending a comforting warmth to pool within her belly. With a happy sigh, she let herself relax into his embrace, only to jump slightly when he suddenly spoke.

"I've been thinking, Precious. I'm going to postpone the oral report you and Angel are to give, until next weekend. I think I would like to take you to London for the whole of this weekend, rather than just the day on Saturday. Unless you have other plans you would rather keep?"

Feeling her cheeks flush with excitement, Sarah laughed softly, tilting her head toward his lips. "Well, I'll have to check with my guardian and see what he thinks. He doesn't like me to go on dates, much less with strange old guys."

"Oy! A little less of the strange, if you don't mind, girl!" Jareth growled playfully, his fingers tickling her hips and ribs, making her squeal with delight.

"Yeah...but...you don't object….to the old bit?" she squeaked, squirming and wriggling across the bed, before he pulled her back against his chest, his arms like steel around her, holding her fast.

"I may be old compared to you, darling… but we'll still have several lifetimes together," he whispered in her ear, his voice dropping low, as his heated breath teasing the shell of her ear.

Sarah shivered, letting his meaning run through her mind. "Forever...not long at all…." she murmured, a soft gasp slipping past her lips at the feel of his lips on the side of her neck.

"Not long at all…. Now sleep, Sarah mine."

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

The crisp November air bit Sarah's cheeks, whipping her hair around her head, as it swirled and moaned through the trees that lined the senior parking loop of Cadawallader Academy. Pulling her wool coat tighter around her body, she dropped her backpack on the bench under the gazebo, then huddled close to Angel.

"Ready for the weekend?" Angel grinned, pulling a small glowing orange crystal from the air and tucking it into the pocket of Sarah's long wool coat.

Purring at the delicious heat that suddenly filled the inside of her coat, Sarah laughed, "Not really… but Jareth picked my brain until after 2 this morning about what I'd like to do." She peered around, then nudged Angel with her elbow. "You'd better not do that again. If Jareth catches you doing magic without supervision again, the punishment will be far worse than last time."

Angel gave her a cheeky grin, then nodded. "Yeah, I know. But it's so fucking cold out here."

"I know," Sarah sighed, snuggling deeper into the warmth of her coat and glancing toward the main building nearby. "But it was either wait here for our rides, or be stuck in the student lounge with Marcy and her crew of queen bees."

"So…." Angel grinned, winking at Sarah. "Are you finally going to get laid this weekend?"

"Angel!" Sarah squealed, as her cheeks burned hotly. Since Jareth declared the duel a tie, she'd thought about the implications of the weekend and what might happen. Part of her, the part that was accepting of the bond, wanted to give in, but there was still enough fear to hold her back. Groaning, Sarah elbowed Angel in the ribs, hard enough to make her grunt.

"What? Oh come on, Sarah!" Angel laughed, elbowing Sarah back. "You told me what he said last night, and Fae can't lie. So you can't say you doubt the way he feels about you."

Sucking her on lower lip, Sarah's head bobbed slightly. "Yeah...but…."

"And we know how you feel about him…." continued Angel, ticking the points of her argument off on her gloved fingers.

"It's complicated."

"Bullshit. It's as plain as the nose on your face!"

Ignoring Angel, Sarah pulled her hair over her shoulder and quickly began to weave it into a thick plait. "Are you sure you're okay with me being gone all weekend? I don't feel right leaving you with no one to hang out with."

"You're deliberately trying to change the subject," Angel grumbled. "I'll be fine and you know it. Alais is picking me up tomorrow morning and I'll get to spend the day with her practicing the new moves she showed us yesterday and with Titania working on some new skills. Now answer the question…."

A snort of laughter interrupted them. Looking up, the girls were faced with Marcy and her followers, each with identical self-important smirks upon their faces. Marcy's hazel eyes glittered maliciously as she purred, "Answer what question? Who is the biggest loser at the academy? Ohhh...that's an easy one… you two are!" The Marcy-Clones tittered with giggles, as their Queen-Bee laughed.

Sarah felt her anger rise, as she glared at them, their nearly identical leather coats, and expensive handbags, accented by 'secret' nose-jobs, that everyone in the student body knew had been done - and by what plastic surgeon. Standing, she felt a cool burn beginning in the fist she clenched deep in the pocket of her coat. The feel of the cool shell of a crystal appearing in her hand, distracted her, allowing her to take a deep breath and push down her anger, letting the crystal vanish. Beside her, Angel snorted and rolled her eyes.

"Oh wow. Such a juvenile answer, Marcy. What's wrong, has someone stolen your favourite binkie?" Angel snapped.

Shrugging, Marcy smiled at her friends, then turned a dark smirk upon Angel and Sarah. "It's a pity you are such losers, you might actually get to have some fun for a change if you at least gave the boys something worth it for wasting their time on you."

"What, you mean guys like well-used goods like you?" Angel growled, a faint hum of magic chiming around her, until Sarah elbowed her to get her attention.

Marcy tilted her head coquettishly and flipped her hair over her shoulder. "We've been invited to an exclusive function in London this weekend. We'll be staying in Jaimie's parents penthouse."

"Oh, so you and your girls are going to be the party favors for a bunch of drunk college boys?" Sarah hissed, her green eyes flashing angrily. "No thanks, we have more self-respect,"

With a haughty laugh, March sneered, "Oh...I suppose you two will be stuck at Rex Manor for the weekend, how boring. Too bad Gareth doesn't take you anywhere, but why would he? He can have any beautiful woman he wants. Women with class and breeding would line up to be seen on his arm and spread their legs for him. You're nothing."

Sarah felt a stab of desolation pierce her heart at the thought of Jareth with another woman. Forcing the feeling aside, she met Marcy's sneer with one of her own, then gave a derisive sniff. "Actually, I'll be in London this weekend too. I've got a date, and a suite at the Dorchester."

"Oh really? I can't believe anyone would spend that kind of money on a frigid bitch like you." Marcy's malicious smirk widened, as she folded her arms over her chest. "Besides, Gareth would never let you go to London the weekend."

"You're right, I wouldn't," replied a crisply accented voice from behind Sarah. "That's why I've booked the penthouse suite for the two of us. It's a first date, you see and I intend for my Sarah to enjoy the  _finer_  things that I can provide for her. Far better than some college boy's filthy apartment." A warm arm slid around Sarah's back, making her stomach flutter, as Jareth stepped next to her, pulling her hip flush against his. Dipping his head, he kissed her cheek, the venom in his tone fading when he spoke to her. "Hello, love."

Sarah's heart thumped wildly in her chest, her mind struggling to come to terms with the fact that he had not only kissed her, but also called her 'love' in front of her classmates. Next to her, Jareth's pale eyes narrowed upon Marcy. Through the link, Sarah felt a keen sense of irritation and anger from him, the sensation making her blood burn through her. On her other side, Sarah heard Angel snort, barely holding back her laughter at the way Marcy's face pinched upward, as if the blonde were sucking on a lemon.

Despite the telltale flush of anger on her cheeks, Marcy shrugged and pulled a set of car keys from her purse. "I'm so lucky Daddy trusts me enough to drive his prized car. I don't need my  _guardian_  to pick me up from school, how embarrassing that must be," she sneered. Pressing the button on the key fob, a nearby Jaguar sedan flashed its lights and chirped.

"Indeed. It's a shame that sedan is five years old," Jareth drawled, his tone cold, even as he winked surreptitiously at Sarah and Angel. "I can see why your father would let you drive that old thing. You clearly can't be trusted with anything newer or more  _powerful_." Giving Sarah a slight squeeze, he smirked at Marcy. "I'd rather Sarah concentrate on her studies than be gallivanting about the countryside in an old sedan. Of course, that doesn't mean she can't drive a decent car," he added, holding a set of keys out to Sarah. "Care to drive this afternoon, Precious?"

Her face pinching tighter at the term of endearment directed at Sarah, Marcy huffed, "Oh, how nice of you to let her drive your…." Turning toward the parking area, Marcy and her followers froze, several of the girls gasping, while Marcy's mouth hung open like a gaping chasm.

"Porsche," Jareth finished for her, a deep chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Yes, it is rather nice, although it is this year's model. I'd prefer that Sarah get comfortable with it and if she likes driving it, I'll consider buying her next year's model for graduation. Of course, if she'd rather have a different car, I'm happy to entertain other options." Beaming at Sarah, Jareth winked, then gave Marcy a supercilious smirk, "I'm unapologetic about the fact that my Sarah will end up rather spoiled, if I have anything to say about it. She should be treated like a queen." Jareth dropped the keys in Sarah's palm and picked up her bag. "We'd best be off, Precious. I'd like to get to our suite and get settled in for a cozy evening." Turning, Jareth smiled warmly at Angel. "You'll be coming over for Sunday supper as usual, yes?"

Marcy and the clones gawked at Angel and Sarah, several of them whispering frantically as if trying to understand what alternate dimension they had stumbled onto. In their entire time at school, no one in their class had ever been invited to Rex Manor for dinner - much less 'regularly'.

Grinning broadly, Angel took great pleasure nodding. "Yup. Wouldn't miss it. I can't wait to see your parents and sister again." Her pointed comment hit it's target, as Marcy growled and flounced away, her followers straggling after her. More than one of them seemed reluctant to follow along after the 'Queen-Bee'.

Jareth slung Sarah's bag over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around her leading her toward the car waiting in the driveway. Pulling the driver's side door open, he held it for her until she slid in, before shutting it once more and stowing her backpack in the boot. As he dropped into the passenger seat, Sarah turned the key in the ignition, the sports car purring to life with a throaty growl. Putting her foot firmly on the gas, Sarah let the little sports car roar down the driveway, zooming past Marcy and her clones, where they were piling into the her father's sedan.

"Thank you," Sarah muttered, swinging the car through the turns leading to the main road.

Jareth's amused laugh made her heart race, while the rumbling engine sent a delicious vibration through her, thrilling her with the power of the car. "For what?"

"For putting Marcy in her place. Letting me drive your sports car," Sarah said. "You know… basically everything you've done for me."

"Think nothing of it, Precious. That odious girl needed to be brought down a peg... or ten," Jareth replied, stretching out in his seat and relaxing to the steady purr of the Porsche's engine. "I'd gladly turn her into a goblin, but I wouldn't want to contaminate their gene pool with her brand of filth. As to driving the car, Alais said your defensive driving lessons were coming along well, so I thought I might have to see for myself. I must say I'm impressed. You are handling this car quite well." As he said that, Sarah double-pumped the clutch and shot out onto the main road, grinning when the Porsche purred, responding to her touch, sliding around the corner with practiced ease. Chuckling, Jareth watched her eyes light up when the engine revved, then she deftly shifted gears, manipulating the gear shift with gentle pressure from her fingertips. "I see you like having power to throw around, hmmm?"

Barely glancing at him, Sarah smirked, her cheeks flushing with his compliment. "Hey, I can't let you have all the fun can I?"

"Apparently not," he laughed, leaning back and watching the word fly by. "Just head south toward London for now."

They chatted amicably for the next hour, the conversation interspersed with teasing comments from Jareth that made Sarah's cheeks burn hotly. Nearly 6pm, Sarah saw the sign indicating the London turn-off was another 5 kilometers up the road. Shifting lanes toward the turn, she frowned when Jareth gestured toward a side road.

"We're not staying in London tonight. Take the road for Foxhall Glen."

A barren, icy feeling settled in the pit if Sarah's stomach, Marcy's words tumbling through her head. Swallowing down tears, she nodded and took the turn-off he had indicated, her mind whirling downward in a spiral of fear and sadness.

From the corner of his eye, Jareth saw Sarah's hands clench the steering wheel tight, where before her manner has been loose and relaxed. Frowning quietly, he watched her as he opened the link further. A wave of desolation crashed over him, while a myriad of words tumbled restlessly through his mind. _'She was right… i'm not good enough for him… he doesn't want to be see with me… that's why he hides me away...I can't accept the bond… love him too much to tie him to me against his will… don't want him ashamed of his own queen… who am I kidding i'm no queen… i'm nobody… should've died with Daddy and Karen… at least he's proud of Toby."_

Biting back a groan at the rush of pained thoughts, Jareth pointed at stone archway leading into the village park, his voice strained with the force of Sarah's pain. "Drive in there, Precious."

Surprised by his instructions, Sarah gave him a confused look, but obediently turned down the narrow park drive. The drive twisted gently around a large pond, before coming upon a small car park area. Without speaking, Sarah pulled into a space and turned off the car.

"Why are we here?" she asked, staring straight ahead over the wheel rather than looking at him, her tone dull and lifeless.

When Jareth's door opened, Sarah began to lose her battle against the tears. Warm drops began to roll down her cheeks as he got out, the slamming car door sounding far too final in her mind. A moment later he opened her door and offered her his hand. "Come with me, love. I want to show you something."

Sarah gulped hard, trying to shift the lump in her throat that threatened to choke her. Reaching for her seat belt, her shaking fingers fumbled, leaving her cursing under her breath, no longer caring that Jareth might hear. Without a word, Jareth leaned forward, his cologne and unique scent surrounding her, making her heart ache in her chest. His sure fingers deftly worked the belt release, letting the seat belt slide from her, before taking her hand in his and giving it a gentle squeeze. "Relax, Sarah. Just… come with me," he said softly.

Still fighting tears and a rising sense of panic that burned within her, Sarah somehow managed to stand. She was only dimly aware of him taking the keys from her and locking the car, then wrapping his arm around her and leading her along the stone path of the park. Silently he led her along, finally stopping at a bench atop a small stone bridge that crossed a slender area of the pond. "Look familiar?" he asked.

Through tear coated lashes, Sarah peered around, and sniffed. "It looks...like the old park by my home," she muttered miserably. Not looking at him, she frowned, "Did you do this?"

Pausing, Jareth turned her to face him, his fingertips tenderly caressing her cheek. "No, Precious. I discovered this park by accident one day, and it reminded me of you. So, now and then, after you had been sent home, I would drop by to visit, just to feel closer to you."

Unable to bear the pity in his eyes, Sarah stared at the hollow of his throat, her heart hammering in her chest. She wanted to scream, to sob, to vomit. The roiling rush of emotions was too much. She felt Jareth tilting her face upward, the pressure of his fingers at once gentle, but firm, leaving her no choice but to obey.

She expected pity, laughter, excuses…. But none came.

His lips were soft as they met hers, a silken caress that surprised her. She felt his fingers leave her chin, teasing slowly along her cheek before twisting gently in her hair, the sensation sending ripples of pleasure running down her body. The tip of his tongue traced the seam of her lips, teasing and tempting until she sighed, parting them just enough for him to slip inside. His tongue dipped inside, the scent of vanilla and cinnamon suffused her, until she could taste it upon his tongue as well. The arm around her back pulled her closer, pressing her against his chest in a way that made her belly throb and her nipples pull taut at the sensation of his firm body against hers.

Breaking the kiss, Jareth looked at her, smiling at her flushed cheeks and the way her lips remained parted. Around her the scent of roses wafted once more, the floral sweetness tempered with midnight rain - happiness and the remains of desolation warring with one another. He hated the horrible Marcy-girl for encouraging Sarah to doubt him and his love for her.

"I'd dearly love to bog that brat Marcy for making you doubt me so, Sarah," he murmured, his fingertips caressing Sarah's warm cheek. Leaning his forehead against hers, he sighed, shutting his eyes. "No matter what ideas she put in your head, love...they are not true. I am not ashamed of you, nor do I wish to keep you hidden away."

The sincerity in his words struck Sarah deeply, her body leaning toward him, as she found her voice, whispering, "But, you changed your mind about staying in Lond…"

Before she could finish, he laughed and shook his head, cutting her off. "Darling, I have done nothing of the sort. I just decided I wanted one more night with you as my own, in private. I wanted to take you someplace that is special to me, that I have never shared with _anyone._ "

"Oh…" she mumbled, feeling sheepish and silly, until he caressed her cheek, kissing the tip of her nose with a smile.

"Precious, the only reason I have kept you hidden away until now, is because I want to  _protect_  you from the nasty things people, like Marcy will say about us. The age difference and the fact that I am your guardian will be hard for people to understand. They will assume I am taking advantage of you. Despite what she said, you are more than good enough for me, love. You are smart. You are beautiful. You are my match in ways no woman I have met has ever been.  _You_  are so much more than you realize, Sarah mine. It is one thing for that horrible twit to make you doubt me - that I can deal with. But she made you doubt yourself...and that I cannot abide."

His lips captured hers again, more urgent and demanding. Feeling the doubts fade away like wisps of fog upon the wind, Sarah's arm slid around his neck, pulling herself up on her tiptoes, as her other hand caressed his cheek, before lodging into the feather wisps at the side of his face. A soft whimper echoed in her throat, rewarded with an answering growl of desire from Jareth. He pulled her tight against his body, claiming her lips in an ardent kiss of possession - a possession she accepted fully, her lips working against his, as her own tongue teased past his, dancing and caressing the heated depths of him, just as he did her.

Long moments passed, before they parted once more, breathing heavily in the crisp fall air.

"Don't ever doubt me...or my intentions where you are concerned, Precious," Jareth murmured.

Relief flooded the link, making his smile broaden in response, followed by a bitter sense of worry, words filtering through his mind.  _'What if he's taking me away just to try to get me to give in and have sex….I want to but… fuck… I just… I don't know what to dooooooo!'_

Marveling at her ability to worry about worrying, Jareth chuckled, brushing a light kiss upon her forehead. "And before you can begin to question whether I have ulterior motives in taking you to away alone this weekend, the answer is  _no_ , Sarah. I am not doing so merely to get you naked in my bed. I've told you before, that decision is yours alone. When you are comfortable enough with me and what it would mean, then I will gladly take what you offer and ensure that you don't regret it for a single second. But until that time, I am content to wait and enjoy having you in my arms as often as you will let me."

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Jareth drove them from the park through the winding roads leading to Foxhall Glen, leaving Sarah to relax to the sound of his voice as he told her about the little village, and the warmth of his hand resting just above her knee. Twenty minutes down the road they entered the small village, and pulled up outside a quaint historic cottage at the edge of the village green. "We're here," he announced, shutting off the car and getting out.

Popping her door open, Sarah got out and looked at the old Elizabethan era cottage. The brown stick and daub roof was traditional thatch, which accented the white washed walls and dark black-brown timber of the windows and shutters. Above a thick door painted bright red, hung a worn red sign with hand painted lettering - 'The Goblin King's Arms'. Glancing at Jareth, Sarah's green eyes snapped incredulously. "You have _got_ to be kidding me!"

Jareth chuckled as he opened the boot and handed Sarah her long wool coat. "Believe me, Precious...I had nothing to do with the name. I found this place quite by accident." Slinging her bag over his shoulder, he grabbed his own, then led her toward the door. "I quite literally stumbled upon this inn one night when I was terribly drunk," he said, nodding toward the pub across the village green, as he grasped the ornate brass handle in the shape of a dancing goblin.

Following his nod, Sarah rolled her eyes at the name of the quaint little pub, "The Pickled Goblin?! Seriously? And you had nothing to do with it?"

"Not directly, no," he laughed, steering her into the lobby of the inn. The 16th Century heritage of the building was visible in dark ceiling beams and white washed plaster coated walls of the old inn. "However, some of my minions had a hand in it. I promise I'll tell you the story over supper, love."

The lobby of the inn led into a large common room, filled with leather armchairs and sofas. Set in the front wall was a large stone fireplace, surrounded with hand painted tiles that depicted small grotesquely silly caricatures that looked suspiciously like some of the goblins Sarah saw in her parent's room when she first met Jareth. Sprawled on the thick plaited rug in front of the roaring fire was a lazy Irish Wolfhound. When the door swung shut with a thud, the dog cracked an eyelid in their direction and gave a half-hearted 'wulf', before shutting his eyes and dozing off again. A moment later an old woman came through a doorway at the back of the lobby, wiping her hands on a faded blue floral apron. Seeing Jareth she smiled, rushing past the sign-in counter and hugging him,

"Fionn-sìthe!" she called out, then rushed around the check-in desk to hug Jareth. Releasing him, she gave his cheeks a grandmotherly pat and beamed happily at him. "It's about time, you've come to visit again. It's been too long mo chara daor." The wolfhound lifted his head and looked at her, his tail thumping on the floor. "Oh dear, did our guests spoil your nap Faolan? Useless bloody dog," she laughed, then smiled at Sarah. "Ah… you've brought a guest with you, Fionn-sìthe?"

"Fionn-sìthe?" Sarah asked, arching an eyebrow at Jareth, who gave her a sheepish grin.

"More of the story I'll tell you over dinner." Jareth chuckled softly and picked up Sarah's hand, squeezing it. "Sarah, this is Roisin...she owns the inn and the pub across the way. _And_  she mother-hens me anytime I feel the need to escape here for a bit."

"Well someone has to," Roisin replied, the stern glare of her deep brown eyes offset by her broan grin. Grabbing Sarah's hand from Jareth's, she bustled the young woman toward the sign-in desk. "I call him Fionn-sìthe because when I first met him, he showed up at the pub drunk as a lord, and demanding Goblin Ale. When James gave him our house brew 'The Laughing Gnome' and he started rambling on about something called a Hoggle and how gnomes don't wear red hats and it was all so strange. Here was this handsome, fair-haired man going on and on about fairy tale creatures. So I named him for his hair - Fionn and his connection to the Aos sì...Fair Ones."

Hearing Roisin's explanation, Sarah peeked over the tiny woman's prim white bun and caught Jareth's eye, his pale eyes twinkling slyly.

"You think he's Aos sì?"

"Of course not dear," Roisin said with a hearty laugh. "Mind you, he's handsome enough and has the sharp, ethereal features my gran always said the Aos sì had, but I know perfectly well who he is. Rex Industries has been  _very_  good to this village in the last three years since Fionn first showed up - as has the secret benefactor who donated  _just_  enough to have the pub roof repaired, and paid for my private hospital room when I had my hip replacement last year." Patting Sarah's hand, Roisin winked at her, then ducked behind the desk. "Oh yes, I know who he is. So does everyone else in the village, but when he is here he usually wants to hide. So around here, he is simply, Fionn."

Jareth's arm slid along Sarah's back, as he joined her at the counter, his heat warming her deep inside. "You can prove nothing," he said, trying to keep a straight face, and failing.

"Hah!" Roisin barked, her nimble fingers flipping through the guest book. She tapped an empty line and offered him a pen. "Sign here, Fionn-sìthe." Grinning at Sarah, she winked. "You can use a pseudonym too if you'd like. Unless you are his Mrs.?"

Sarah's cheeks burned hotly and she shook her head. "Oh...me...no. I'm not...I'm….I…" she stammered, looking at Jareth for help.

"She is not my wife...yet. Give me time, Roisin. I've got to show her my good side." Jareth signed the book, his looping letters dwarfing the other signatures.

Roisin beamed at him and clapped her hands. "It's about time you settled down with a good woman Fionn! No more of those vapid twig-insects." Plucking a key from the basket on the counter, she grinned. "This calls for the honeymoon suite," she said, handing Jareth a skeleton key on a string of red ribbon. "It's the room at the top of the inn, with the large tower window and the big private bath, with the deep, footed Victorian soaking I call over to the pub and have some dinner delivered for you?"

Shaking his head, Jareth dropped the key into Sarah's hand and picked up his bag again. "No thanks. Once we get settled we'll head over ourselves. By the time we get there the Friday open jam should be well and truly underway. I've like Sarah to experience it."

"Um...thanks," Sarah mumbled to Roisin, then numbly followed Jareth up the stairs, still unwilling to believe he had nothing to do with the name of the inn or the pub.

Unlocking the door at the top of the winding stairs, Sarah pushed it open and gasped as a huge attic suite was revealed. Twilight filtered through the large windows surrounding the turret at the far end of the attic, casting shimmering silver moonlight over the large round chaises set in the middle of the tower area. Against the other wall was a huge, king-sized bed made of heavy mahogany that looked to be former ceiling beams in their thickness and weight. The bed was covered in thick antique quilts, and a host of fluffy pillows. Through a door she could see a large bathroom with a large claw-foot tub, easily big enough for two people, if not more.

"This is… wow. Amazing!" she grinned, dropping her coat and purse on the chair by the door. With a gleeful squeal, Sarah raced across the room, then leapt up, twisting in mid-air to land sprawled on her back in the middle of the bed, her plaid school skirt rumpled up high on her thighs, and her school tie askew.

Jareth laughed as he shut the door, the feeling of her joy infectious. "I'm glad you approve, Precious." Sitting the bags on the luggage rack, he sat next to her on the bed, drinking in the heady scent of cinnamon and vanilla, tinged with roses and surprisingly, night jasmine. "Now, while I quite like the anime school girl look, when it is you that is wearing it, I'd rather not cause too much a scandal at the pub. So you'd best go change into something more appropriate."

Blushing, Sarah tugged her skirt down and sat up. "Sorry. I kinda...got carried away." The way Jareth's eyes darkened, as they washed over her, made her tremble inside, heavy throbbing sensation beginning low in her belly. "I'll...go change," she muttered and got up, grabbing her overnight bag and taking it into the bathroom.

The moment the bathroom door shut, locking Sarah safely inside it, Jareth groaned softly, running his hand through his hair. _'Bloody Hell… I'm not sure how much longer I can be a gentleman.'_

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

When Jareth and Sarah entered 'The Pickled Goblin' an hour later, they were greeted by a chorus of cheers for 'Fionn!'. It took them a further fifteen minutes to make their way to a comfortable booth, since it seemed that everyone in the village that was of legal drinking age was in the pub - and every last one of them wanted to meet 'Fionn's Girl'. Once they were seated, the local jam session began again, filling the old pub with lively tunes and singing. Within minutes of settling into the comfortable booth next to Jareth, a rotund waitress with frizzy blonde hair started toward them, managing to balance a laden tray as she wove her way through the singing and clapping bar patrons.

"Good evening, Oona. How are the kids?" Jareth asked during a lull in the singing, his arm draped around Sarah's back, holding her close.

Sliding a plate of stew and fresh bread in front of each of them, Oona laughed, the sound bright and booming, even in the din of the pub. "Oh, they'll be the death of me. Jayme declared that 'twas the goblins that flooded the bathroom. I've got water dripping from my kitchen ceiling still! And that was two weeks ago. I swear, I don't know what's got into that boy sometimes. Makes me recall my Nan telling me about the Goblin King… but I wouldn't want to inflict my spawn on someone who already deals with goblins. I swear Jayme is worse!"

Sarah hid her mouth behind her hand, trying desperately to smother her laughter, as Oona placed a large schooner of dark liquid in front of her, and another in front of Jareth.

"I've got your usual, just doubled it for the two of you. Guinness with Glennfidich chasers," she announced, adding smaller shot glasses filled with golden liquid to the table.

"Oh but I don't…." Sarah began, only to stop when Jareth waved away her protests.

"That's fine, Oona. Thank you. I think we'll be okay now."

Oona bustled away into the crowd gathered near the performers, while Jareth nodded toward the drinks in front of Sarah. "You're old enough to drink if you wish. All I ask is that you do so when another adult member of the family is around, in your changeling state, the effects of alcohol could be...unpredictable - and no alcohol for Angel. She's still too young,"

Picking up the heavy glass, Sarah watched the way Jareth took a deep drink, and tried it, only to cough and gag. Sarah wrinkled up her nose, glaring at the contents of the glass as if they would speak, before putting the glass down and pushing it toward him. " "I guess it's an acquired taste," she said, spearing a gravy covered chunk of potato into her mouth and swallowing heavily, trying to wash away the bitter, burnt yeast taste..

Jareth laughed, taking another long drink from his own glass. "If the Guinness is too much, I doubt the whiskey will fare any better." With a surreptitious wave of his hand, another glass appeared before her, filled with a pale amber liquid that smelled faintly of lemons and had floral notes, tempered with a fresh yeast smell. "A shandy may be more to your liking, Precious."

Sarah picked up the new glass and sipped it. Smiling she nodded. "Much better, thanks." As she buttered a bit of her bread, her green eyes pinned him with a mischievous glint. "So, let's hear the story of how the real Goblin King got drunk and stumbled upon a village that is clearly obsessed with goblins…"

Rolling his eyes, Jareth shook his head. "Well, I found this place, pretty much as Roisin told you - I was falling down drunk, literally. "Your father had just gone home, and on the way to the airport, he had regaled me with tales of you dating. I...I did not take the news particularly well," he explained, his lips twisting in a sheepish smile.

"You...you were  _jealous?!_ " Sarah asked, her eyes wide in disbelief.

"So it would seem. Although in my defense, at the time I didn't understand  _why_  I should be so upset about the news. I didn't know of the bond at that point. So, after dropping your father at the airport, I returned to my kingdom and according to Hogspit and Didymus, I apparently tried to outdrink an entire squad of Mountain Troll mercenaries. I was doing fine too, until they started drinking something called 'The Laughing Gnome'. After that, things get a bit fuzzy. I remember being angry and miserable, as I entered the Labyrinth. The next thing I remember was getting into a lively argument with Harold the bartender here, and several other locals, about gnomes wearing red hats - for the record, they don't. In fact they abhore the color red. The next thing I remember is waking up three days later in a room at the inn, with Roisin and the town doctor discussing whether I should be transported to hospital or left to sleep it off a bit longer."

Sarah blinked in stunned amazement as she listened to the tail, then burst out in gales of laughter. "Jareth...the Goblin King… on a bender? Because of me?!" she gasped, nearly choking on a sip of her shandy.

Patting her back, ruefully, Jareth chuckled. "Yes yes… enjoy your laughter at my expense, Precious." When she continued to laugh, tears streaming down her cheeks, Jareth did the only thing he could think of to snap her out of it - he kissed her.

At the feel of Jareth's hand twisting firmly into the hair at the back of her head, Sarah gasped, her mouth o-shaped, in the split second before he kissed her. The kiss was deep and languorous, as if he were tasting the very depths of her, before releasing her.

"Are you quite finished, darling?"

Sarah nodded mutely - incapable of speaking due to her numb lips and the heat coursing through her from the kiss.

"As to why the village is obsessed with goblins, it would seem that a contingent of the goblins from the training barracks found a portal to the Above in the 1800s. They ended up here and proceeded to cause a ruckus for about a month, from what the locals say. Oddly enough, I never realized they were missing. They proceeded to taint the local's brewing with pickle juice, which then led the little cretins to ended up passed out drunk in the middle of the village green, after parading through town singing some nonsense song about me...the Goblin King. The rest, as they say, is history."

Giggling at the story, Sarah leaned against Jareth. Enjoying the warmth of her snuggled against him, Jareth sat back more comfortably in the booth and wrapped her in his arms, kissing the top of her head.

"And are you sure the real Goblin King didn't make an appearance to woo village maidens, and that is why the inn is named after you?" she murmured, her blood racing at the feel of his lips against the tender flesh under her ear. His next words vibrated against her skin, making her belly throb - in more ways than one.

"I assure you darling, no one in this village has felt the Goblin Kings arm's around them. No one, except you...and that is the way I intend to keep it."

* * *

 **AUTHOR'S NOTE:**  Thanks for reading...please review :)


	31. What do you call this then?

efore she opened her eyes, Sarah was aware of only one thing, and it was a pretty big thing -

Everything hurt.

Her head was throbbing as if Ludo was using her skull for a bongo. Her teeth ached with the pounding, making her neck tense from the pain. Everything hurt. Without opening her eyes, she slowly continued her 'systems check', only to groan as she tried to roll over, to hide from the horrifically bright light seeping through a crack in the curtains. Just that slight movement was enough to set her stomach churning and rolling, until last night's dinner was very much in danger of ending up on the floor. In the end, Sarah was quite sure that even her hair and toenails had developed nerves overnight, as they were now howling as loudly as her pounding head.

Frowning she finally noticed the lack of a certain male body that she had grown accustomed to waking up next to. Every morning for the last week she had woken up to find herself wrapped securely in his arms and here she was in pain and… Jareth-less.

Sarah groaned softly as she steeled herself to open her eyes. "Jareth," she rasped, surprised at how dry her throat and lips were. Cracking her eyelids, she peered through her eyelashes into the room. Immediately she saw him, sprawled sideways in the large armchair he had dragged near the bed. One leg was thrown over the arm of the chair, as his other stretched out in front of him. He had removed his jacket, but was otherwise still dressed. She could see the steady, slow fall of his chest, as he slept, his head lolling back against the headrest.

"Jareth?" she asked again, her voice stronger this time.

In an instant he was awake, his smile warm, while his eyes twinkled mischievously. Sitting up in the chair, he stretched with leonine grace as he regarded her a moment, a soft chuckle rumbling in his chest. "Ahh...Sleeping Beauty awakes. How are you feeling?"

"Like...like… I dunno," Sarah groaned, her words met with laughter from Jareth, the sound like metal, grating to Sarah's sensitive ears. "Owwww… not so loud. And since when does your laugh sound like a bloody car crash?"

Jareth's laugh dropped until it was a faint purr, barely audible even to her changeling ears. Shaking his head he ignored her more colorful language, as he tilted his head and blinked at her, his predatory eyes shifting amber for brief moment, before reverting to their usual striking steel-blue.

"If I had to guess, I would suggest that the answer to 'how you are feeling' is hung-over, Precious. And judging from your responses to sound and light, I think in future we shouldn't give you anything more potent than a sip of champagne - at least until your changing is complete."

Sarah groaned, the sound making her head throb all the more as it echoed within her skull. Rubbing her eyes, she tried to focus on the infuriating Fae who she was sure was still laughing at her, even if she couldn't hear it. The sensation of mirth that filtered through her body only confirmed it.

"Stop laughing at me. I can feel it and it makes me want to vomit in your lap," she pouted, the sensation of amusement increasing somewhat before fading.

"Would that I could, Sarah mine. But at the moment you are just too amusing."

Ignoring him, Sarah shut her eyes once more, sighing as blissful darkness sheltered her tender senses, even if it was only an illusion of peace. Her words were a soft protest and dulled with pain, "I only had the one shandy. Why am I so hung-over?"

"As I warned you, changelings react differently to alcohol. Some can drink quite a bit without consequence, while others become overly sensitive to the effects. You, Sarah mine, fall into the later category," he chuckled, his fingers light as they pushed a tendril of hair back from her face. "You didn't even get through the whole drink. Half-way through you started to get a bit...chatty and 'animated'. By the time I finished my meal you were begging me to dance, and pestering the waitress for a shot of whiskey, which she wisely declined to give you." Seeing her eyes snap open in disbelief, he laughed quietly and continued. "Sometime around 9 you began to call me 'Sexy Rexy' after declaring that nothing good rhymed with Jareth. Then you proceeded glom onto me and whisper in my ear, offering lewd suggestions for what we could do in this room and more precisely the bed in which you are lying."

Sarah's gasp echoed briefly in the room before she shut her eyes again, throwing her arm over them with a moan. "You're lying."

Jareth huffed, his amusement now tinged with irritation at having to repeat himself - yet again.

"I am Fae. You are my mate… well you will be.. I can  _not_  lie to you, love. I speak truth. At 9:15 Roisin threatened to box my ears unless I brought you back and put you to bed like a decent gentleman, which I did, despite the fact that you propositioned me more times than I care to recall between the moment I picked you up and the moment we arrived back in the room." Leaning toward the bed, his lips twisted in a sly smirk. "So I brought you back, used magic to change you for the night, and tucked you up into bed. Anytime I tried to lay down, you… well...it's best not to tell you just what you tried to do. Suffice to say, you made your desires quite well known. In the end, valor won out. I drew on the bond and put you to sleep and kept my distance in the chair. I do hope you appreciate just how difficult it was for me to say no to taking you up on the various 'offers' you made me. Some of them were rather inventive...and insistent."

Sarah moaned rolling away from him, her cheeks burning even as the throbbing in her head ramped up from her movement. The shift of position set her stomach lurching dangerously once more. Breathing deep, Sarah gagged as the smell of bacon and eggs assailed her, sending her stomach rolling with all the force of a hurricane blown ocean. With a panicked groan, she lunged from the bed and rushed toward the bathroom, hitting her knees before the quaint Victorian styled toilet just in time to feel the nausea become more pronounced.

Unaffected by the sound of retching which echoed from the bathroom, Jareth rose and followed her. As he moved, he let the link open, tasting her emotions which flooded through him. The tumultuous coolness of humiliation and embarrassment rushed through the link, alongside scattered words of misery -  _'Dinner was more pleasant going down...fuck...I hate this... damn him...why did this have to happen today... I'll never be able to face him…how do you kiss someone after seeing them hurl...'_

Awash in her own humiliation and regret, Sarah didn't realize Jareth had joined her, until his gentle hands pulled her hair back from her face. "Go…'way…" she gasped, before another wave of nausea rendered her speechless barring wordless gagging and moans.

"No, luv," he replied, his tone gentle but firm. "You have need of care, Precious."

Groaning, Sarah rested her head upon her arm, fighting against the next wave of nausea. "Can't you...I dunno… magic it away?"

Jareth's warm chuckle, teased her ears, soothing her more than she would have expected under the circumstances. "I wish I could, Sarah. For you, I would gladly move the very stars, unfortunately, this is one of those things we must suffer through."

Slowly Sarah sank down next to the toilet, her eyes sunken and her face ashen. Panting shallowly, she shook her head, as he knelt down, her words edged with miserable tears of humiliation, "Go away...I'm gross."

Ignoring her protests, Jareth gently wiped her face with a cool, damp cloth, smiling at the way she sighed when the chilled cloth touched her flushed face. "No, darling. You are ill. And that does not dampen how I feel about you, or the care I wish to show you." When she finally ventured to open her eyes and look at him, Jareth smiled and kissed her forehead. "A shower will help wash away the worst of your hang-over, then we can begin our day together properly," he said, rising once more and turning on the shower.

Steam began to fill the bathroom, swirling around her as it coated every surface in the small room. Sarah sighed, watching Jareth pensively. He moved with purpose, laying out several towels upon the small rack next to the shower, then tugging a glove from his hand and testing the water temperature. In her fevered imaginings of him as lover when she was younger, she had never considered that the Goblin King could actually be generous and caring. _'No...he isn't the Goblin King now...He's just Jareth. My Jareth…'_ she thought, the truth in her thoughts rocking her to the core. Never before had she considered the different 'masks' Jareth wore and in that moment, she knew with certainty that the man she was seeing now was the real Jareth - and he was hers.

Unaware of the deep realizations Sarah was experiencing, Jareth slid his glove back on, then smiled down at her. "Up you get, Sarah," he smiled, reaching for her hands and pulling her to her feet. Without a word, he worked his fingers into the hem of his loosely laced silk shirt that she was still using as a nightshirt and began to draw it upward.

"Wait...wha..." she gasped, locking her arms firmly down her body, her eyes widening despite the pain of the sun shining through the bathroom window. "What are you doing?!"

Lips quirking in a quiet smile, Jareth laughed softly, his fingers still twisted into the hem of the fine material. "Simply put, I am trying to take care of you, despite the fact that you still are attempting to defy me. Do you have a problem with that, Precious?" he asked.

Sarah frowned, the reasonable purring tone of his voice making her blood sing in her veins and her belly quiver, even as her irritation still burned behind her breast. She tried to hang onto her frustration, but it was difficult when he leaned closer, his lips millimeters from her ear, close enough that she could hear the soft exhale of his breath before he spoke. The unique scent of him surrounded her, a delicious mixture of midnight rain, exotic spices and musk, melded with cinnamon and vanilla. A gentle tickle of adoration pulsed through her via the link, twined with amusement and desire.

"Let me take care of you, Sarah," he murmured in her ear, the heat of his breath warm against the sensitive flesh.

"But…"

"Darling, for the last week you have come willingly to my bed nearly nude, clothed only in my own shirt and a pair of knickers. Have I been anything but a gentleman? Have I abused your trust in any way?"

Silently she shook her head, a pang of shame slicing through her at his words.

His fingers lightly teased against the top of her thighs while he spoke, "Do you honestly think those flimsy items have hidden your beauty from me?" Hearing her breath catch as she moved to speak, Jareth kissed her ear gently. "I will not take liberties, I give you my oath."

Jareth's lips brushed against Sarah's neck, a fleeting caress that seemed to ripple through her body, the spot they touched tingling with the faint hint of magic. Biting her lip, Sarah struggled to remember exactly what her objection actually was.  _'Danger! Danger! Nakedness leads to...other stuff!'_ howled her mind, while her body burned at the very idea of being laid bare before him. Swallowing hard, Sarah shut her eyes and nodded. The decision was made - her fate sealed at his hands and the feel of his lips against her ear.

"I take care of what is mine, Precious," Jareth whispered softly, as his hands slowly pulled the silk shirt past her arms, which relaxed allowing him to peel the shirt upward and over her head. "And that means, I will take care of you, Sarah."

He smiled at the way she immediately sought to cover her breasts, her arms practically flew up, squishing the ivory globes against her body, while a glowing pink tint flowed upward from her luscious cleavage clear to her forehead.

Jareth said nothing more, there was no need - her permission had been secured.

Laying the shirt aside, Jareth smiled warmly at her, taking in the goosebumps that raced across her skin. His hands were gentle as he teased her arms away from her breasts, giving him the first full glimpse of her lovely flesh - each breast softly rounded and tipped with a dusky rose colored nipple that budded taut under his gaze. With knowing fingers he drew her hand upward, turning it so that he could press a gentle kiss upon the tender flesh along the inside of her wrist. First one wrist, then the other. He didn't need the bond of the link to know she was nervous, the tiny tremors of her hands and knees told the story with exacting clarity. She was a novice at the ways of pleasure, that he knew; but he was quite sure that even though she had learned to pleasure herself, her methods barely scratched the surface of what pleasure could be had - the pleasure he could give her.

Gently Jareth placed Sarah's hands at her sides, watching her with amber avian eyes. Her breath came in shallow bursts, as she hesitantly opened her eyes and looked him, emerald orbs wide and questioning. Within him a sense of triumph blossomed, tempered with cautious optimism. She had willingly given him permission to care for her needs, allowing him to bare her body to him. Pushing down the primal urge to pin her against the wall and kiss her senseless, he dipped his head and tenderly kissed the points of her collarbone, lightly sucking on the skin, before releasing the kiss.

The sudden burst of cinnamon, vanilla and cloves that surrounded him told him that his touch was having an effect upon her, her timid desire like ambrosia as it flowed through the bond, making his mark throb and burn pleasantly - Yet he resisted. _'I've come too far to risk losing her trust now,'_ he mused, his fingertips ghosting down her arms, sending goosebumps racing along the smooth flesh.

Dropping gracefully to a knee before her, his fingertips grazing over her hips to continue downward to her knees, Jareth felt her tense, one hand flinching upward to cover her breasts, while the other dropped in front of his face. Through his bond he felt her heartbeat, hammering away like a rabbit caught in a snare, desire warring with panic.

"Shh...love...trust me," he murmured, gently moving her hands back to her sides.

A tiny whimper of indecision and protest squeaked in her throat, but she remained still, a faint tremor running through her at the light touch of his fingers near her hips being the only outward reaction. As his fingers hooked into the sides of the lacy knickers, Sarah took a deep, quick intake of breath, her heart faltering in her chest, yet still she didn't move to stop him.

' _Oh Gods...fuck… Jareth is… crap...I can't...he's...he's...I'll be naked...I...I...I...didn't shave…'_

Biting back a smile at the panicked flow of thought rushing into his mind through the link, Jareth shut his eyes, opening the bond fully and gently feeding a sense of calm back through the connection - only opening his eyes when he felt her fears subside once more. His touch was light, as he eased the lace down her legs, rising with them in his hand once she had stepped out of them. Jareth smiled at her, tenderly kissing her forehead, then dropped the knickers on top of his shirt on the basin.

"Make no mistake, Precious, you are beautiful. But I made a promise. I will not break it and will touch you no further - for now. Anything more you may want, you have but to ask." Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, Jareth nodded toward the shower. "Go, bathe. I'll arrange a light breakfast for you."

Then he was gone from the bathroom, the door shut tight, leaving Sarah alone in the steamy room, with her even steamier thoughts.

"Cold water," Sarah muttered, reaching in and adjusting the temperature of the shower. "I need...cold water."

Sarah's thoughts whirled through her mind as she stepped under the bracing spray, the chill making her squeal in shock.

"Everything okay in there, Precious?" Jareth called through the door.

Seeing the doorknob turn, Sarah gasped, clutching the washcloth to her chest. "Yes..yes! I'm fine. Don't come in!"

When the doorknob stayed still she finally relaxed and picked up the bar of fancy boutique soap sitting on the shower shelf and ducked further under the rushing water, as if trying to rinse away the heat Jareth's words and touch had caused to pool within her belly, a throbbing, pulsing, rolling sensation in her belly that had nothing to do with her hang-over.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Taking advantage of Sarah's time in the shower Above and the fact that time Underground passed faster than that Above, Jareth transported to his chambers in the castle and took a shower of his own - one that was several degrees warmer than an ice fairies tears, but cold enough to douse his ardor.

He had expected their trip to London to be congenial and relaxed, however seeing Sarah fully nude had not been on part of his plans. Of course, he was no fool, he was not complaining about the fact, but he was somewhat amazed that she had willingly let him strip her down to take care of her.

"She'll be the death of me at this rate," he groaned, as his mind replayed the way her nipples pulled taut and her eyes darkened with want. She might not be ready to fully give in and accept the claim, but she was definitely drawing closer to the point at which there would be no stopping, for either of them.

Feeling more in control of his desires following his shower, Jareth transported back to the inn, dressed comfortably for the day's touring in black jeans, a simple black t-shirt and a black cashmere sweater. Upon the coffee table in front of the sofa, sat a coffee pot with mugs and two covered plates, the scent of fresh toast and lightly poached eggs wafting from the tray. Smiling he sat on the couch and poured himself a cup of coffee, then settled back to sip his first cup of the rich brew, while he read the paper. Several minutes later, he heard the bathroom door behind him open and quiet footsteps cross in the floor. WIthout looking up, he sipped his coffee, waiting for her to speak.

When she said nothing, he glanced at her, a smile curling his lips to see her wrapped in his thick brocade robe. "Yes, Precious?"

"Um… I… I packed a couple of sundresses and some jeans and stuff, but I wasn't sure what… well… what I should wear," Sarah muttered, wrapping a damp lock of hair around her finger, in the way she always did when she was nervous about something. "I don't know what you have planned."

Jareth folded the paper and set it aside, as he turned upon the sofa, shifting to look at her more comfortably. Her hair hung in damp strands over her shoulders and down her back, and upon the air floated the light scent of lavender and mint from the soap, melding pleasantly with the cinnamon and vanilla that seemed to cling to her these days.

"Darling, the morning is your time. Wear what is comfortable for you," he replied with a reassuring smile. Reaching out and taking her hand, he squeezed it gently. "For my evening plans, I will supply you with a suitable outfit. You have nothing to worry about."

Rather than relief, Sarah's face pinched further, a burst of indecision flooding the link between them. Jareth tilted his head, trying to decipher where the conflict stemmed from, her reaction leaving him puzzled.

"Look, you are a powerful man here and Underground. I don't want to dress too casual and embarrass you," Sarah sighed, running her hand through her wet hair.

"Sarah, you could never embarrass me. I will always be happy to have you on my arm."

"Yeah...but… there might be photographers to see us today. I don't want…"

With her hand still in his, Jareth guided her around the sofa, then gently tugged her down into his lap, chuckling at her startled gasp. He lightly caressed the blush that swept across her cheeks, while he settled her more comfortably upon his lap. It felt right to have her there, tucked against his chest wearing his robe, her body smelling of love and desire. Tamping down his more base thoughts, he smiled at her, his tone quiet, "Sarah, remember what I said yesterday. Marcy is wrong. I don't hide you for _my_ sake, but for yours. This weekend I chose to bring you out. I want people to get used to seeing us together."

"But…"

"Would it make you feel better if I chose what you wear today?"

Sarah fingers worked, restlessly twisting the sash of the robe around her hand. She honestly wasn't sure how she felt about it. She didn't want to risk embarrassing him when they were in London, but the idea of Jareth choosing her clothing made her feel… odd. The very thought was enough to make her stomach flutter and her breath catch in her throat, while heat suffused her whole body.  _"Fuck… why does the idea turn me on?!'_ she moaned inwardly, even as she continued playing with the sash of Jareth's robe.

"Yes. I'd feel better about it if you'd choose. You know what we're going to be doing," she finally mumbled.

Watching her toying with the sash, Jareth was struck by the cold, metallic scent of embarrassment pouring off of her, alongside the cloying sweet scent of desire. Holding her close, he smiled quietly, wondering at the war she was clearly fighting with herself- torn between arousal at the idea of him choosing her clothing, and shame. His fingers trapped her own, stopping them gently, his words quiet, "I will do as you wish, but I need you to understand that it's okay get a thrill out of giving up control in both small and large ways."

Sarah glanced up, giving him a sheepish smile, only to be set upon her feet. Jareth nodded toward the bags on the luggage rack, "Show me what you brought and I'll make a decision."

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

As it turned out, Jareth not only had excellent taste in clothing, but he had been paying more attention to Sarah's likes and clothing choices than she expected. His choice of a long black, denim skirt, knee high suede boots and a silky cashmere sweater turned out to be perfect for what he had planned for their morning adventures through London. Not only that, Sarah found that although it wasn't what she would have chosen, in many ways it was far more comfortable than what she had in mind.

Catching sight of herself in the mirror outside the arcade photo booth, Sarah smiled, amazed at how bright the green of her eyes seemed in contrast to the purple of her sweater. Nearby, Jareth fed several pound notes into the token machine, the chaotic jingling into the hopper adding another layer of noise to the chiming, dinging and beeping of the games that surrounded them. Winking at her, Jareth scooped the coins into a blue plastic token cup. With the cup in one hand, Jareth slid his other arm around her back and kissed her cheek.

"Where shall we begin, Precious?"

"How do you feel about skee-ball? Toby and I used to play it all the time with…" she said, then faltered at the unbidden painful memory.

Feeling her pain keenly, Jareth hugged her close and kissed her forehead. "It's okay, Sarah. We'll bring Toby with us next time and build new happy memories, for both of you. Perhaps a different game, hmm?"

Sarah sniffed back tears and nodded, letting him lead her further into the arcade, "Sorry. I just never know what will set me off again. I didn't mean to be such a downer on our… well...whatever  _this_  is."

Jareth gave Sarah a warm squeeze, as he stopped in front of a virtual sword fighting game. "You haven't been a downer, Sarah. This is normal. I expect it and know that it will happen off and on for some time. And when it does, we'll deal with it...together." Holding four tokens out to her, he motioned toward the game. "Now, I suggest you work off some of that 'down' mood and test your advancing blade skills."

Smiling slightly, Sarah fed the tokens into the machine, biting her lip nervously as a blast of heroic sounding music erupted from the speakers in front of her. From behind her, Jareth laughed and handed her the VR sword, while she put the goggles on.

"Fancy a friendly little wager, darling?"

"Oh no, Goblin King! I remember the last 'friendly little wager' I made with you," Sarah laughed, adjusting her hold on the fake sword and stepping into the VR ring to begin setting up the game.

"I should hope so, considering it ended rather well for both of us," Jareth purred in her ear. "And with that in mind, just  _think_  of what you might gain taking up this wager."

Glancing at Jareth, Sarah worried her plum colored lower lip between her teeth. She felt an odd sense of delight dancing through her veins that she was sure belonged to Jareth, the light feeling of the emotion matching the way his eyes seemed to sparkle with mischief. "You're enjoying this, aren't you?"

Jareth dipped his head, teasing her earlobe with his lips as he spoke. "Indeed I am. I love feeling your indecision as you fight your curiosity to see just what I might offer you if you win, or what I might claim if you lose. I delight in the way you nibble that succulent lip, when I know I could nibble it in a way that would make you moan and make your knees wobble with need. In short, I enjoy  _you_ , Sarah mine. Go on...tell me you don't enjoy being with me as well. Do try to make that lie convincing, darling," he purred with amusement.

Sarah muttered under her breath and elbowed him sharply in the ribs, earning a pained grunt and a soft laugh from Jareth. Straightening her stance, she bent her knees, her eyes glued to the video game screen. "I'll hear the terms first, Goblin King... _then_  I'll decide whether or not to take you up on the wager," she demanded, as the first level challenger rushed toward her. Easily she dodged their blow and struck, drawing first blood and ending the match.

Laughing as he watched, the swift, yet graceful way she moved to deflect the next virtual attacker, Jareth nodded. "Now you're starting to think like the future Goblin Queen, Precious." The sudden rush of giddy anticipation that flooded the link at his words, only served to feed his amusement, even as he marveled that the idea of becoming his Queen was clearly a positive thought for her - such a change from only a few weeks before.

"Fair person who collects the most tickets...without the use of magic of course… is declared the winner. If you win, I will give you one day of complete spoiling to do as you wish. You simply have to tell me what things you want to do and I'll make it happen - meet unicorns. Swim with mermaids. Stand on the top of Katmandu and sing opera. Or spend the day at the Elvenflower spa with Angel and my sisters, or by yourself. Whatever you wish, if it is in my power to grant it, it is yours. If I win, you will grant me another 'date' of my liking. A chance to create a day just for the two of us, with things I think you will like or want to show you. See… simple. No ulterior motives. No demands for... _intimate_  activities - unless you should wish them should you win. What do you say?"

As the game reset for the third opponent, Sarah glanced at him, her green eyes shimmering hesitantly. Sarah tilted her head, regarding him with curiosity. His Cheshire grin was neither devilish nor devious, yet there was something he was not telling her - he was the Goblin King after all, so a loophole would be expected.

"Why offer a wager for that? You could have a date like that basically anytime you wanted. What's the catch?" she asked, emerald eyes narrowing as she glared suspiciously at him.

Jareth purred inwardly, his lips quirking in a sly grin. "Because I want a full day, darling. From midnight to midnight -  _and_  I will be taking you Underground. There are things that I wish you to experience that can only be found there. But I cannot take you Underground without your willing consent now, mated bond or no."

Biting her lip, Sarah considered his proposition. The moment he mentioned her being the Goblin Queen, she felt a chord seem to sound inside her, the rightness of that knowledge undeniable. No matter how far she may run or how she may feel she was not ready for that, she knew that in the end, she would be the Goblin Queen, just as she knew that she would return to the Underground, willingly. Thinking about returning to his castle and kingdom sent a shiver of anticipation zipping down her spine, to curl hungrily in her belly. Surprisingly, in the past few weeks she had grown to enjoy her life with Jareth Above, but in the quiet hours of the morning, wrapped in his arms, she had begun to wonder what it would be like to be entwined with him in his own world - if being wrapped in his safety in the Above felt so comforting, how much more comforting would it be to be that way in his world?

In the end, the decision was far easier than she expected.

"Okay. Deal."

The surprise that flickered momentarily in Jareth's pale eyes was almost worth the leap into the unknown - but this was not the first time she had taken that sort of leap in Jareth's presence, and she suspected it would not be the last time.

Ignoring him, she readied herself for the next opponent. She had a wager to win - but even if she lost, she knew she'd end up winning.

Jareth crossed his arms as he watched her, entranced by the way her body quivered with anticipation until the next virtual opponent lunged at her through the virtual reality goggles. Instantly she responded, pivoting and swinging the digital blade. He marveled at the the way she moved and dodged. Her lessons were clearly progressing, but there was something more about how she fought, something instinctive. Jareth shifted slightly, his groin tightening at the mental image of Sarah's body encased in the dragon scale armor of the Goblin Queen. Time seemed to pass slowly as he watched his queen fight, the chainmail of her armor chiming faintly with the swift twisting of her lithe form.

Lost in watching the shadows of the Queen she would become, Jareth was only dimly aware of Sarah slaying the dragon on screen - the final opponent. Her triumphant shout drew him from his thoughts, only to find her arms around his neck and her silken lips attacking his. The sudden kiss rocked him to the core, a sudden rush of confusing emotions ripping through him until it was impossible to tell which were his and which were hers - triumph, joy, confusion, love, surprise...and hope.

Gasping in surprise, Sarah broke the kiss, her palms pressing against his chest as she moved to step back, her cheeks flushing brightly. "I..ah… I didn't…I'm so-sorry…I didn't..."

Wrapping his arms around her, Jareth pulled her flush against his chest again, his lips quieting her attempted apology. The feel of her body, willingly melting against his, silenced the cacophony of emotions flooding the link. A vibrant ball of joy burst to life within him, settling warmly in his chest, as her lips parted easily for him. Jareth felt the warm glow inside throb hotter when her tongue darted out to dance with his. Sarah's breathy purr brushed against his lips, only to be swallowed by their shared kiss. Around them, the pinging, chiming and buzzing of the arcade seemed to fade until the only thing Jareth was aware of in that moment was Sarah - he was drowning in the feel and scent of her, and he would happily continue to drown in her for all of his days.

"Ahem."

Unwilling to give up Sarah's lips, Jareth bit back a growl and looked toward the sound. His attention fell on a pre-teen boy standing nearby, a faint look of revulsion on the youth's face.

"If you two are gonna suck face, can you at least give up the game controls so I can have a turn?"

Before he could retort, a gentle hand caressed Jareth's chest, followed by quiet words. "Don't bog him, Jareth. He's already horrible enough being a boy," Sarah giggled softly. "Besides, we have a wager to play out, don't we?"

Around them the noise of the arcade seemed to grow exponentially louder. Jareth smiled and pressed a tender kiss to Sarah's forehead. "As my Queen commands."

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Snuggled with her back against Jareth's side, his body warming her with incredible amount of heat he always seemed to possess, Sarah smirked catching herself idly wondering if the heat was an artifact of his dragon form. Letting the silly thought flow from her mind, she sighed softly as he read to her from a book of Fae lore. His voice was quiet and soothing, not that she needed any soothing after the fairy tale day she had spent with her very own fairy tale king.

In the end, Jareth won the wager at the arcade, and Sarah was surprised to find that she no longer cared who won. She had such a good day with Jareth that the thought of spending another full day with him as a 'date' no longer felt 'wrong' or scary, but something she looked forward to - having him all to herself and seeing what he wanted to show her of his world. If it was anything half as wonderful as the things he done for her in London, she knew she'd love it.

After the arcade he had taken her to lunch in a cafe at Hampton Court, then spent time in the gardens letting her sketch the flowers and buildings that lined the property. From there he took her over to the Globe Theatre, fulfilling a dream she had cherished since she was first introduced to Shakespeare's works. By the time they reached their suite at the Dorchester late in the afternoon, Sarah was torn between wanting to stay in and hope for a foot rub after all the walking, and wanting to go out and see the city by night. As it turned out, she got to do both.

Waiting for her in her room of the suite was a large dress box from the private dressmaker Jareth favored. When she opened it she found a sleek navy blue dress that shimmered from blue to black, as the light hit it from different angles. Tucked into the corner of the box was a red velvet jewelry box, hiding a diamond and sapphire jeweled necklace and matching earrings. The gems themselves were lovely, but classic. While others might go for something ostentatious, Jareth had clearly selected something that suited her. In the bottom of the box, nestled into one of the black velvet pumps was a pair of tickets - front row center seats to see  _Phantom of the Opera_. If she didn't know better she'd swear he had been reading the 'bucket list' she kept in her diary - in one day he had managed to hit three of her list items.

All evening Jareth kept her upon his arm or pressed to his side, with his arm wrapped around her back. The theatre experience included a veritable 'who's-who' of London society - it was a bit like looking at an entertainment tabloid. Elton John. Richard Branson. Beckham and Posh Spice were spotted on a balcony as Jareth guided her through the crowd. A bit later she saw Gordon Ramsay and his wife, flanked by David Bowie. Musicians. Actors. Movie stars. Politicians. Celebrities of all kinds mixed and mingled in the lobby of the theatre in the West End. And through it all, Jareth proudly introduced her to people as 'Sarah Williams, my date.' Yet each time he said it, she could hear his voice whisper in her mind adding 'My Queen and Mate," making her blush, which only enchanted those they met more.

With the notes of the musical still ringing in her ears, Jareth surprised her with one last excursion - a slow ride upon the London Eye. They had a pod all to themselves for the gentle ride, the lights of London twinkling around them and across the river. Standing by the glass, they silently watched the world go by, no words were needed. Smiling at the memory of Jareth's arms wrapping possessively around her, his chest warming her bare back. Despite the fact that they were alone, he had been a complete gentleman, the only hint of intimacy being the way he kept her in his arms and the occasional soft kiss he placed upon the column of her neck.

Shutting her eyes, Sarah let herself get lost in the melodic sound of Jareth's voice as he read to her. For a day that started out so horribly, it ended like a dream.

With a quiet smile, Jareth glanced down at the sleeping woman beside him. She had her own room in the suite, but as had become their pattern, she had joined him in his bed rather than retire to her own - and he was content for that nightly ritual to continue. Laying his book aside, he turned out the light and settled down next to her until her back was tucked against him, his arm lazily draped over her waist. Each quiet breath of the woman in his arms made his heart swell, until the scent of cinnamon, vanilla and spices swirled around them. Shutting his eyes, Jareth relaxed, letting her gentle breathing lull him toward sleep.

"Jareth… are you still awake?"

Cracking an eye open in the dark of the room, Jareth murmured, "Yes, I am Precious. Is there something on your mind?" Silence stretched between them, the seconds ticking by, counted by their relaxed breathing.

"Well...I was just thinking," she murmured quietly, a wave of indecision and doubt flooding the link. "You always said if I had any questions about… um…  _things_ … I could ask you."

Jareth paused, his fingers freezing in mid-caress against her hip as he wondered at her sudden question. Taking a slow breath, he nodded, his fingers relaxing once more against her body, even as he longed to pull her closer to his own body. "Yes, and I meant it." Jareth could feel her embarrassment grow, along with the pulsing pink sensation of her arousal, the scent of it surrounding the two of them. "About dominance and submission, or about pain and pleasure?"

"Um… both," she whispered softly, rolling onto her back beside him, her eyes open to the darkness above her, the shadows of his body barely visible in the dark room.

"Yes, Sarah, my promise to you still holds. You can ask me anything you want to know. I would rather you get your information from me than Angel - as 'knowledgeable' as she may be, I assure you, I have more experience and understanding of such things than your friend." A wavering sigh brushed past her lips, setting the wisps of hair along his forehead swaying against his skin.

"Just...don't laugh, okay? I know my questions and worries are probably silly to you. You've been around, well… forever and I've never done more than…" Sarah muttered miserably, then sighed, "Well… what I've done with you."

"Your inexperience is not something I would laugh at, Sarah. It does not make you 'less', nor does it mean your questions or worries are silly. Everyone starts at that point," he replied, his words gentle. Giving her hand a reassuring squeeze, he nuzzled her ear. "Go ahead, ask your questions."

Hesitating briefly, Sarah mumbled, "I was wondering...if you had someone like me who was...um...inexperienced and they wanted to...I guess, 'explore' without going too far… what would or... could you do?"

"You mean how would I introduce you gently to the more, sensual pleasure to be had, without actually claiming you as my mate?"

Gulping, Sarah's body seemed to burn from the heat in his soft words, tensing as embarrassment and nervousness warred within her. Her eyes falling shut in a vain attempt to block out the tumultuous emotions warring within, Sarah took a long, slow breath then nodded.

"Hypothetically speaking, if I were to introduce you to such things, it would focus on pleasurable sensations, and would not include any significant pain, except in brief, teasing forms. I would seek to provide you a feast of the senses, to awaken the body and the mind to the many forms pleasure can take."

The emotions cascading through the link formed a riot of sensation - desire, longing, curiosity, fear, embarrassment, each one tumbling over the next, leaving Jareth unable to determine which one was the dominant feeling.

"And if I wanted to…um…." Sarah began, her words fading away as she found herself unable to voice her real desires. A strange sense of anticipation thrummed through her, while the seconds seemed to stretch on and on before Jareth spoke.

"Sarah, all you'd have to do is ask, and I would happily give you that which you seek."

For a moment he thought she might actually ask, her mouth opening with a quiet intake of breath, then falling shut once more, as another wave of indecision, desire and embarrassment rushed through the link. In the dark of the night her heartbeat was audible, racing within her breast. Jareth let his words hang in the air for a minute which seemed to stretch for an eternity, before kissing her cheek, his fingers teasing lightly upon her hand as it lay on her stomach.

"Do you want to explore, Precious?" he murmured, drinking in the hitch in her breath as if it were the finest Elven wine. His words were low and soft, a gentle purr in the shell of her ear. "I promise, I will stop if you wish it and will use nothing more than my hands and lips. Give me permission to give you a taste of the pleasures to be had, Sarah."

Every nerve in his being trembled with the potential power in her answer. For weeks he had longed to touch her and hear her cry his name, and now he was on the precipice of that which he desired. Even the knowledge that she did not fully want to be claimed did nothing to dampen the importance of her decision. If he was only allowed to touch her and pleasure her with his touch and lips, he would grasp the opportunity to make her crave him with every breath that she took from now until the end of time.  _'Forever won't be long enough,'_ he thought, as he awaited her response. In his arms, Sarah trembled, the scent of her desire hanging heavily in the air, setting his body and mind alight with the possibilities. After a long moment of silence, she nodded - and Jareth's heart soared, while his primal side roared its triumph.

"Yes…please."

Caressing her cheek, Jareth felt her tremble, the flutter of nervous energy running the length of her body. "For tonight, just relax. Hide in the darkness with me, Precious. Let me take care of your needs," he whispered, letting the natural Fae timbre of his kind slip into his voice. With the sound still whispering around her, he felt her racing heart slow, her body seeming to relax as the Fae voice was recognized within her as 'mate'. "Focus only on the sensations and my voice. All you have to do is obey and the only order is simple - lay there and feel. Nothing else matters now, except what you feel. You are safe with me."

Jareth didn't need to see what he was doing to bring her pleasure, her body itself told him all he needed to know. Teasing his fingertips over her throat, he let them trail over the smooth column of her throat, relishing the way she unconsciously arched her neck toward his touch. His lips curled in a smirk at the slight moan that slipped past her lips, only to broaden when she clapped a hand over her mouth. Even in the dark he could imagine her wide eyes, staring in horror at her blatant sound of needful pleasure.

"It's okay to be vocal Sarah," he pressing tender kisses to her cheeks and eyelids, while pushing warm reassurance through the link. "Responses, whether physical or aural, tell me whether you are enjoying something. Fae find such sounds arousing, especially from their mates."

Feeling Jareth shift upon the bed Sarah nervously licked her lips, her tongue feeling like the Sahara. Next to her, Jareth sat up, his fingers sliding along her arms, gliding easily over the cool silk of his shirt, that she still wore to sleep in. Her breath caught in her throat, as his fingers reached her shoulders and started downward, lightly grazing over the swell of her breasts. Biting her lip, she fought back a whimper, when Jareth's teased his fingertips around her nipples - coming close but never touching the taut peaks that throbbed in anticipation of a touch that didn't come.

"I could use the bond to see whether you like what I am doing or not, but I need you to be comfortable communicating your desires to me, Sarah," Jareth murmured, kissing her ear. Pausing he teased his fingertips around her silk covered nipples once more. "So, we're going to a play a little game. A game of obedience and focus. Do you want to play?"

Opening her mouth, Sarah took a deep breath, her throat clicking dryly as she nodded. The sound of Jareth's warm chuckle swirled around her, tickling her ears with the gentle rumble, that made her belly flutter and her hidden pearl ache with need.

"Clearly my little game is needed, Precious," he purred, nipping her earlobe. "Your must obey two simple rules. First, I want you to keep your hands by your head unless I move them for you. Second, you are only allowed to say four things until released of this order - yes...no…more and please. You  _must_  use those words to answer any questions I may ask of you - if you fail to answer a direct question, a penalty will be paid. You may also use those words at any time to respond to what I am doing to you. Understand?"

Jareth felt the conflict within her, even as he dampened the emotions leaching through the bond. It would be easy enough to pleasure her and keep all aspects of obedience and control out of things, but that was not what she had asked for. She wanted to explore, and trusted him to give her a first experience that would not be threatening or frightening, and he would honor her desire gladly. Smiling to himself, Jareth teased his lips along her neck. He knew that it would be easier on her to lay in the dark and let him do what he would, while she remained passive - but he could not, would not, allow her to hide away from her own needs and emotions in that way. To allow that would only end up hurting her in the long run, as well as himself. While Sarah had already given him power over her, this time she would do so in far more intimate terms.

Sarah felt her stomach swoop and twist at his words. Since Jareth first spanked her over his lap after their duel, she had fantasized about giving him this control, and the fact that she had worked up the nerve to do so still shocked her. It didn't help that Angel insisted on showing her her a website full of stories about kinky sex games of control. Now she had a head full of ideas, a belly full of butterflies and a more than willing Goblin King currently asking her to play a game with him - a game that would end with her giving him control to pleasure her at his whim. It was all a bit much.

' _Talk about jumping from the frying pan into the fire,'_  she giggled inwardly.

If she was honest with herself, there was no way she could refuse to play his game - after all, she had started this.

"Y-yes?"

"Is that a question or an admission of willingness to play, Sarah?" he asked, teasing his fingers back up toward her shoulders.

Her nipples throbbed and pulled tighter as the light caress of his fingers retreated. Even in the dark, she could imagine the wicked smirk that would curl his lips, knowing that his touch was already making her body respond. Gulping, Sarah took a wavering breath. "Yes," she said with more conviction.

Velvet lips captured hers in a kiss that made her heart thud erratically in her chest. His tongue eased past her lips, sliding along hers with slow, silken thrusts that made her belly quiver and tighten. Releasing her lips, he kissed and nibbled along her jaw to her ear, his breath searing a heated path along her flesh.

"Good girl," he murmured against the shell of her ear, the sound a dark purr that sent a shiver down her spine, to end coiled between her thighs.

' _Fuck! How can those two words turn me on?'_ she gasped to herself, wondering at the sudden way her clit began to throb.

His fingers trailed downward once more, lightly grazing around her nipples without touching them. Smiling, Jareth felt Sarah arch toward his touch, pressing her breasts toward him. Gently he palmed each breast, drinking in the heat of her, before stroking his thumbs across each tight peak. The surprised squeak she gave elicited a visceral response within him, his groin tightening in reply. Fighting down the urge to rush, Jareth forced his actions to remain slow and measured.

"I won't ask whether you liked that, your response is clear enough. Do you want more, Precious?"

"Yes," she whispered, the word nearly lost in her sudden intake of breath as his thumbs slowly teased over her nipples once more, stroking them until they pebbled further. The sudden jolt of pleasure from the gentle touch, sent a rush of heat to her core, throbbing hotly. Feeling a warm drip slid from within her, Sarah moaned, squeezing her thighs together. "More."

Jareth growled softly in reply, the sound doing nothing to douse the heat inside her. Sarah felt the bed shift, then the heat of Jareth's breath washing over her nipple, making it ache deep inside. Whining softly, she arched toward him, her breathing shallow pants.

"Now now, pet… you have words. I want you to use them," he chuckled, then blew cool air over her nipples.

"Please!" Sarah gasped, her hands twisting into the sheet by her head as she fought to remain still.

"That's my good girl," she heard Jareth murmur before his mouth closed around a nipple.

The heat of his mouth made her see sparks behind her clenched eyelids, bright flashes of red and orange taking her breath away, as her body arched toward the welcoming heat of him. A moment later she felt his fingers pinch her other nipple, the pressure firm enough to tease without causing pain. The burning warmth of him seemed to envelope her, bathing her in heat and teasing her with the firm pull of his lips, tugging on the taut bud within. Lost to the sensation of his lips, she was only dimly aware of his fingers grazing downward to the hem of the shirt, until she felt them curl under, lightly caressing her flesh as he began to draw the shirt upward. Releasing her nipple, he traced the line of her jaw with tender kisses.

"Ready to feel my touch properly, darling?"

Groaning Sarah nodded, struggling to remain still.

He tisked softly, then pinched her nipple firmly, the sensation tight enough to pinch, yet the pain melded seamlessly into please the moment he let go. "The word, Sarah," he reminded her gently, then nipped her earlobe with his sharp teeth, sending a another burst of pained pleasure sizzling to her core. "Nothing happens without the proper words."

"Yes… please," she gasped, her reply breathy and soft.

Before the last syllable had died from the air, Jareth had swiftly pulled the silk shirt up and over her head, leaving her bare, save for the thin lace of her knickers. The air in the room was cool, but she didn't feel it, her body burning with a fire from within - a fire Jareth was carefully tending with his fingers and mouth. Groaning when his tongue seared around her nipple once more, Sarah's hands grasped his hair, the feathery wisps twisting between her fingers until his teeth pinched her nipple firmly, the pain making her squeak and release him.

"Naughty girl… ," he scolded, his tone low and teasing. "You must keep your hands by your head, or I'll be forced to bind them. While I look forward to playing such games of bondage with you, Precious...you did request a gentle introduction to such games. Now can you obey that rule?"

"Yes…"

"That's better," he murmured, then sucked her nipple back between his lips, flicking it quickly with the tip of his tone, as his hand trailed lazily over her chest and down over her stomach.

The closer his fingers trailed toward the junction of her thighs, the harder Sarah found it to obey his command to stay still. Whining she rocked her hips toward his hand, only to whimper when he pulled his hand away. The whimper of protest morphed to a throaty moan of want, when she felt Jareth's silken lips begin to travel the valley between her breasts. Each kiss was light caress that teased and enflamed the fire raging low in her belly, the heat making her feel as if she were melting, as more heated drips slid from within to coat the throbbing petals that curled protectively around her clit. With each kiss, she felt her legs part further, silently begging him to continue, even if she could not bring herself to say the words.

Reaching the waist of her knickers, Jareth stopped, pressing a kiss just past the elastic. His fingertips trailed lazily along the edge of the lace, teasing her until she whined with frustration.

"The rules are going to change now, Precious," he purred, as his fingers curled under the lace, to begin easing it downward. "You now only have two words - No… and Jareth. And your hands  _must_ stay by your head or I will start again from your neck and we will begin the teasing all over again. Do you understand?"

"Jaaaareth!" she whined, wriggling her hips slightly.

Laughing, Jareth nipped the tender flesh low on her stomach, earning him a sudden gasp from Sarah. "Ah… so you do understand. Excellent. And as much as I would enjoy starting over, I suggest you remember the rules, darling. You are dripping already. If I must begin you're likely to flood us out of the bed."

Sarah's groan only added to his amusement.

"Have you any idea how long I have waited to taste you, pet?" Jareth purred, kissing along the exposed flesh as he continued to ease the lace knickers down over her hips. Finally revealing the glossy next of dark curls, Jareth growled softly. "Hmm...so beautiful, Sarah. And you saved this...just for me...didn't you darling?" he murmured, placing a heated kiss upon the curls, just at above the hidden pearl.

Moaning, Sarah shivered at the intimate gesture, her heart threatening to burst from within her.

"Answer me, darling...or we'll start all over," he insisted, pausing in his caresses and sitting up again, as if moving back toward her head.

"Jaaaaaretttthhhhh!" Sarah moaned, her voice wavering with need.

"I'll take that as a 'yes'."

Sarah gasped feeling his fingers upon her heated flesh, gently parting the slick folds. The simple touch sent her nerves reeling. Between the feel of his fingers parting her and the heat of his breath, washing over the slippery petals, she thought she might die if there was any more sensation applied - then she felt his lips caress her clit. A cry of need ripped from her lips, as she twisted her hands tighter in the sheets, her hold body spasming from the touch.

"Jareth!"

"Hmm… that's it… say my name, Precious. I like the idea of you associating my name with what I am about to do to you...and will continue to do to you every chance I have."

A strangled moan filled the room, when the flat of Jareth's tongue slowly bathed the throbbing bud, making it twitch from the heat of him. Spreading the puffy pink petals further, Jareth lightly teased the tip of his tongue up the length of her, eliciting a desperate whimper from Sarah - and she no longer cared. The more he teased her his tongue and fingers, the less she cared about staying quiet and meek. She couldn't if she wanted to. Each touch of his tongue was like an electric bolt of pleasure surging through her until she felt she would fly apart from the sheer force of it.

In a moment of surreal panic, Sarah nearly sat up and pulled away, her mind screaming that it was inconceivable for a King, her King to be doing such a thing. Then she felt Jareth's tongue tease just inside her dripping core and all coherent thought fled. His name flowed from her lips like a litany, as each new caress of his tongue made the fire within her burn hotter still. From teasing brushes around her clit, the deep wriggling thrusts that filled her while he sucked her juices greedily, Sarah was overwhelmed with it all.

"Come for me, Sarah…" he murmured, sliding two fingers deep within her grasping channel and curling them as he stroked her intimately. "Scream for me, love."

The pressure of his mouth, sucking her clit between his tight lips, and the steady caress of his fingers inside, lit the final fuse within her. In a split instant she saw stars behind her clenched eyelids, as her heart seemed to stop in her chest. A tremendous buzzing in her ears made her head ring, before the buzzing raced through her body, dancing through every nerve until she shuddered violently from head to toe. Her body thrummed upon the bed, his name echoing from her parched lips, a cry of burgeoning ecstasy never before experienced - and a cry that the Goblin King would never forget.

It was the sweetest sound of release he had ever heard, and he would cherish it to the Summerland and beyond.


	32. Lessons Learned at Last

Checking his watch, Jareth smiled - he had just enough time to get to the manor and join his family for dinner.

Family.  _His_  family.

The very concept took him by surprise, but he had grown accustomed to the idea. Each time Jareth thought of the word in relation to Sarah and Toby, he felt his heart seem to swell in his chest. It had been centuries since he had thought of having a family of his own, and now within the space of a few months he had a family, and a bond-mate who he would happily take as Queen. The swiftness with which this became his reality was enough to set even the Goblin King's mind reeling.

Jareth's boot heels clicked sharply on the slate floor tiles of the castle as he swept up the hall from the throne room to his study. With each step, his body began to shimmer and twist, the leather regalia morphing and shifting around his lithe form. By the time he reached the mirror portal in his study, he was clothed in a pair of fine wool slacks, a button down business shirt and a pinstriped waistcoat, his hair cropped into the shorter hairstyle he favored Above. Adjusting his tie, he slipped through the portal, letting the shimmering mists of the 'In-between' envelop him.

For the last week he had been forced to spend more time dealing with Goblin Kingdom issues, when he would have preferred to remain at the manor. While he had missed more dinners, breakfasts and cultural lessons for the girls than he would have liked, he had gone to great pains to ensure he was back in his own bed in the manor by midnight each night, often finding Sarah already curled up there, wrapped around his pillow and sleeping peacefully. Despite being able to cuddle around her in his sleep, Jareth found himself missing her company and the little confidences she shared with him. In the space of a few weeks, she had gone from treating him as an authority figure that must be fought against, to a confidant, a friend and even a lover.

The thought of the way Sarah screamed his name as she came undone for him, had been a frequent flight of fantasy when he was trapped in dull court council meetings for the last week. As expected, the morning following their more intimate play had been punctuated with awkward silences and bouts of uncontrollable blushing from Sarah, He had tried to be patient with her, to be understanding of her struggle with the mortal sexual mores. In the end he had resigned himself to the fact that she needed more time to come to terms with their relationship becoming more intimate. Once they returned to the manor, he had pulled her aside and gently reassured her that the fact that she had asked him to touch her once, did not mean he would pressure her in anyway - The choice would remain hers and hers alone.

And life moved on, more or less as usual. Sarah found her way to his bed each night, and he woke each morning to find her wrapped around him, brunette tresses draped across his chest. She made no move to extend the invitation for intimacy, seeming content just to be in his arms, and he was content to have it so as well.

As much as he would gladly show her any number of pleasures, he would wait until she made her desires known. Afterall, he had waited this long, he could wait a bit longer for her to realize her own needs; and judging by the flood of love, lust and contentment that flooded the bond link when she was with him, he was quite sure that it would not take too much longer.

Stepping from the portal into his study at the manor, Jareth smiled contentedly at the thought of spending time with Sarah later in the evening. Above the mantel, the golden clock chimed the quarter hour, leaving him 15 minutes until he was due for before dinner drinks with his parents and sister. Picking up a stack of mail on his desk, he flipped idly through the envelopes, his nose wrinkling up at the sight of the various party invitations which had found their way to him. It was the same every November. The nearer it came to Yule, the more invitations 'Gareth Rex' received. A few of them were from people he would legitimately claim as Aboveground 'friends', but the vast majority were simply hopeful hangers-on - even if he had barely spoken to the person once for a mere minute or two.

"Sycophantic jackanapes," he grumbled, dropping the envelopes back into the correspondence basket. He'd missed dinner all week - sending rejections for the invitations could wait until after he had spent time with his family. Although he could assign the chore to his personal secretary, rejections could be tricky and had to be handled with care; in Jareth's case, he preferred to deal with them personally, to soften the blow.

Spying a cream colored envelope lying in the middle of the blotter, Jareth picked it up. A frown creasing his forehead upon seeing the crest of the local police department. Sliding the elven silver letter opener along the top seam of the paper, he removed the letter and unfolded it, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips upon reading the contents. Folding the letter once more, he tucked it into the inner pocket of his waistcoat.  _'Yes...today is looking up,'_  he mused as he headed for the door.

Opening the study door, he was immediately assailed by a deep thudding bass, that vibrated through the floor and jarred the paintings on the wall. As he drew nearer to the media room, the sound intensified, booming in his sensitive ears and setting every nerve in his body on edge. In tones that would barely be audible to anyone other than another Fae, Jareth could hear two female voices melding in with the deep rumbling bass.

"Fuck this...fuck that… fuck me...fuck you...fuck everyone here and everybody else too! Fuck off...fuck face...fuck all night long!...Fuck everything everywhere and FUCK THIS SONG!"

A low growl rumbled in his chest at the words.  _'How many times must I punish her for this?'_  he snarled inwardly, stalking toward the door of the media room. Shaking his head, Jareth pushed open the door, only to step back as the sheer volume of the music and obscene nature of the filth Sarah and Angel were 'singing' hit him like a physical blow to the chest.

"Enough!" he roared over the din that was supposed to be some form of 'music'. The ethereal Fae timbre of his voice sent an electric current through the room. Electronic equipment sizzled and popped wildly, sending sparks flying, before acrid smoke filtered from beneath molten bits of plastic and circuitry - as the room fell blissfully silent. Caught in mid-gyration, both girls stared at him with wide, terrified eyes. Gulping in unison, they stood straight in the middle of the room, watching him with trepidation as he stepped into the room and the heavy wooden door thudded shut behind him.

"I have very few rules for the two of you, but the one I do have I have given to you with good reason based upon your station in my world. And what would that rule be, ladies?" he said, his words eerily calm and quiet, while his pale eyes darkened, falling sternly upon them.

"It is...Um...we were…" Angel began, then fell silent when Jareth held up his hand and shook his head.

"I expect an answer,  _girls_ ," he hissed in warning, his demeanor steely.

Groaning, Sarah hung her head, unable to meet his eyes. "No cussing… Sire," she muttered, twisting her hands into the hem of her sweater.

Jareth arched an eyebrow, and inclined his head, acknowledging both her answer and the title she included with it. "While I'm glad you remember some of your rules and manners, Sarah, tossing about an honorific won't save you from punishment this time."

"But Jar...Your Majesty… it's just a silly song. And we're in the media room…not Underground..." Sarah protested, looking up at him. Seeing the way his dark eyes narrowed upon her, her words faded as she realized the futility of her argument.

"That's no excuse, Sarah!" he snapped, his magic crackling in the air around him as he momentarily fed from the frustration coursing through him. Shaking his head, he ran his hand through his hair, quelling the magic and forcing it back. "Toby could have walked in and heard that, that... _filth_. My parents could have been confronted with it. Or Mrs. Brown! When will you start to act like the Queen and courtier I need you to be?!"

Angel opened her mouth to try again, only to snap her jaw shut from the cold look the Goblin King gave her.

"In the little snippet I heard, you said  _that_  word 10 times. This is the fifth time I've had to pull you up on your language Sarah. That is 50 strokes you now owe me," he grumbled, shaking his head.

"But it was my idea!" Angel argued, her words cut short by Jareth's growl..

"That is no excuse, Angel! You are her companion. You should be protecting her, not dragging her into trouble. Don't make me regret appointing you to that position, girl!" he barked, pointing a finger at her and advancing until she cringed against Sarah's side. Relaxing slightly, he shook his head, his lips a tight line of frustration. "But don't worry Angel. Your  _loyalty_  and culpability as Sarah's companion will be… rewarded."

Sarah clasped Angel's hand and squeezed it, fighting down the wave of fear that rushed through her. It was so odd to see how calmly Jareth stood there, his eyes narrowing angrily. No other outward sign of his irritation was given, yet she could feel his frustration through the link, and the force of it made her queasy.

"Angel, you will take your evening lessons with my mother for the rest of the month. Since you two can't be trusted together, I'll split you up," he replied, his words calculated and cold. Turning his icy gaze toward Sarah, the darkness within them seemed to fade, a sudden burst of disappointment flooding the link, making Sarah cringe. "And you...Precious...you will spend your evenings with me. Wherever I am, you will be. You will do as you are told and complete any tasks given quietly and without complaint. Is that clear,  _girls_?"

"Yes, Sire," the two of them mumbled miserably.

After a moment, Angel bit her lip and looked at Sarah, then raised her hand. Seeing the brief flash of confusion in Jareth's eyes, Sarah fought back the urge to laugh at the ridiculousness of Angel's action and Jareth's response.

"Um… I have a question," Angel muttered with a tearful sniff, her hand slowly dropping to her side when the Goblin King inclined his head in her direction.

"Speak."

"Does this...does this mean I'm not Sarah's companion anymore...since you...you think you can't trust us?"

Sarah held Angel's hand tight within hers, the thought that Jareth would change his mind about Angel's position within the royal household would be taken away had not even occurred to her. Gulping she hugged her friend, watching Jareth warily over Angel's shoulder.

Jareth sighed, the tension in his shoulders relaxing slightly, at the fearful look in Sarah's green eyes. He would move the stars for her, but knew well the dangers of letting such behaviour slide.

"No, I am not rescinding Angel's position within our household, Sarah. She is your companion, appointed by my own hand and accepted by the High King. Poor decision making abilities notwithstanding, your companion she shall remain until such time as  _you_  decide she should no longer fulfill that position." Seeing the relief upon both of their faces, he shook his head, his stern look returning. "But I cannot excuse your behaviour and the fact that you continue to lead my future Queen astray, Angel. If you want to be her companion then you have to demonstrate you have her best interests at heart! Until you can demonstrate you are serious about it, you two will no longer be allowed to spend so much time alone together. I'll give you until December 1st to demonstrate that you can both be sensible, then we will see if you are ready to be the companion Sarah needs."

Frowning, Angel sniffed and muttered, "So we won't be able to have fun anymore."

Jareth rolled his eyes and harrumphed. "Don't be ridiculous, Angel. You two will no doubt find all kinds of less problematic mischief to engage in. I'd far rather you enchant the castle horde to fly and shoot pink bubbles out of their asses than break rules which will have a potentially disastrous impact upon Sarah's reputation and my own. If you must get into to mischief, at least pick things that won't have serious consequences for the kingdom." Seeing the way Angel's eyes lit up at the idea of floating goblins, Jareth groaned inwardly and waved a hand at the two of them. "Go… get ready for dinner. I'm in residence and so are the High Queen and King. You are both expected to dress appropriately for dinner. That means dresses - and don't think about going too short. I know how your minds work. Be decent!" he ordered, shaking his finger at them, even as a smirk twisted his lips. "You've got 15 minutes to get changed and be presentable, before you will be expected in the drawing room for pre-dinner drinks."

Behind him the door slowly opened. Jareth waited a moment, and when neither girl moved, he waved his hand at them. "14 minutes and 36 seconds! Scoot!"

With that both girls raced through the door, their footsteps rapidly receding down the hall as they ran toward Sarah's rooms.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Despite the scolding the girls received before dinner, the meal itself was a congenial affair, helped along in part by the sharing of the letter Jareth had received from the police department - a letter which vindicated Sarah, finding that she had been drugged and a known felon's fingerprints had been found on the wheel of the stolen car. With that news cheering everyone considerably, the girls returned to their usual fun-loving selves as Titania and Alais regaled Jareth with stories of their exploits during the week. Although they had shown a remarkable lack of judgement earlier, Jareth was pleased to hear that the rest of their training and Underground culture lessons were coming along nicely and they had been (for the most part) mischief free.

When desert had been served, the family and Angel retired to the parlor for after-dinner coffee and board games as a change from the usual lessons. Jareth settled himself in a comfortable arm chair telling by the fire, Toby 'real' fairy tales, his animated retelling of classic Fae tales keeping the young boy rapt, with silly voices and harrowing details. Although he was busy entertaining Toby, Jareth kept finding his attention drawn to the girls, crowded around the coffee table, and beating his mother and Alais at four-handed Fairy-Dice. Taking in the cozy domestic scene, Jareth found that he couldn't remember the last time the manor truly felt like a home.

' _The people really do make a house a home,'_  he mused, smiling as his Father gave his Mother a consoling kiss when she lost for the second time, while the Angel and Sarah giggled about winning the game, their heads together - appearing for all the world like trouble looking for a place to happen.

Looking up at Jareth, Titania rose from her seat by the coffee table, holding her arms out, her lavender eyes sparkling affectionately. "Give me the boy, Jareth. It's well past his bedtime and he's nearly asleep."

Rather than relinquish Toby, Jareth rose and shook his head, shifting the child higher into his arms, as the small head lolled comfortably on his shoulder. "No, mother. I should like to tuck him in myself tonight, I've been been away too long."

Titania came forward and cuddled Toby, kissing his forehead and the tip of his nose. "Blessings for wonderful dreams, my sweet," she murmured, accepting a sleepy kiss on the cheek from the child. Her delicate hand then cupped Jareth's face, as she kissed his cheek. "Fatherhood agrees with you, my darling."

Beaming, Jareth carried the boy around the room, for every member of the family to bestow their goodnights. When he reached Sarah, he felt the sudden burst of love and adoration through the familial link and the bond link, the double-dose threatening to drop him to his knees. Steadying himself, he smiled at her when she kissed Toby. Without warning, she leaned in and captured his own lips in a chaste, but loving kiss - much to the delight of Angel and Alais, judging from their broad grins and excited squeaks.

"Thank you for loving him," she murmured, stroking the blonde curls back from his Toby's face.

"I told you I'd take care of both of you, Precious. Now, I'll take him to bed," Jareth replied, smiling warmly at her. "Don't forget you are due in my study at 9. Don't be late."

Sarah's cheeks flushed softly in the amber light of the parlor, while Angel groaned. "It's Friday night, do we have to start our punishment tonight?"

With a gentle laugh, Titania lightly tapped Angel's head. "Come Angel dear. We'll go discuss your propensity toward trouble and foul language."

Sighing, Angel obeyed the Queen and followed her from the room, whispering a melodramatic "Save me," as she passed Sarah and Jareth.

Jareth held Toby close, and followed his mother from the room, relishing the gentle sighs of sleep from the child in his arms. His position meant he had held many sleeping children over the years, but this was different - this child was actually  _his_. While he fervently hoped that he and Sarah might be blessed with many children, at this moment in time, Toby was his only 'real' child and he would cherish the feeling of the small body curled into his.

Reaching Toby's bedroom, Jareth gently changed the sleepy boy into pajamas and tucked him into the pirate ship bed. As he prepared to leave, Toby stirred and frowned, his thumb coming out of his mouth long enough to whisper, "Daddy… where's Squirt?"

Jareth frowned and looked around, before spying the well-loved toy hanging from a nearby basket wearing a small pirate hat Sarah had made for the stuffed goblin. Retrieving the toy, he tucked it into Toby's arms and kissed his forehead tenderly. "Sweet dreams, my boy. Someday you'll be in a world where you'll make those boyhood dreams come true," he murmured. Turning he left the room, dimming the lights and leaving Toby to his dreams.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Sarah checked the clock above the mantel for what felt like the millionth time since she set foot in the study, needing reassurance that she was most definitely  _not_  late. With 50 strokes at stake already, the last thing she wanted was to give Jareth any reason to add more to her punishment. Groaning, she ran a hand restlessly through her hair and resumed her nervous pacing in front of the sofa.

"Stupid...stupid..stupid…" she muttered to herself, before glancing at the clock once more. For a brief instant she was positive the hands had actually skipped backward a fraction, but no… the clock still read 9:58. Sighing, she sat down on the sofa, only to jump up a moment later and start pacing again, her mind whirling as she pondered just what her punishment might be.

The last 'real' punishment she received at his hand has been the caning after the Halloween stupidity. Ten full strokes. Ten strokes on nearly bare flesh. Ten strokes that left her screaming and crying. "Fu….dge," she moaned, her pacing increasing. "He said that if he had to punish me for this again I'd really get it. What could be worse than the caning?"

"What indeed?" chuckled a quiet voice from the doorway.

Jareth couldn't help but smirk at the panicked way Sarah's head jerked up at his words, her green eyes as wide as platters. If a teaspoon were to drop on the floor at the moment, the poor girl was wound so tight she would probably crawl right out of her skin.

Entering the room, Jareth shut the door. Sarah didn't move. Frozen to the floor in the middle of the room, she watched him walk into the room, her stomach fluttering wildly while she fought the urge to flee...or vomit - either one seemed to be an appropriate and understandable response to the weighty presence the Goblin King had when she was in trouble. Sitting in his favourite chair, Jareth steepled his fingers together, tapping them against his lips and chin while regarding her. His silence was in some ways more unnerving than his mere presence, with each wordless moment stretching out into an eternity of panicked thoughts. Finally, Jareth tilted his head and smiled, the sharp canines giving him a wolfish appearance in the creamy amber light of the study.

"Despite your propensity to keep breaking this particular rule, Sarah...I am somewhat pleased to know that you  _do_  manage to listen and remember  _some_  of what I say when I am giving you instructions," he drawled, his words carrying faint amusement in spite of the seriousness of what he was saying. "I did indeed warn you that should you break this particular rule again, the punishment would be far more severe. Yet… here we are. Once again."

His smirk broadened a bit as she hung her head, her hands fidgeting in front of her. Trembling slightly, she made no attempt to move, which pleased him. Jareth leaned back comfortably in his chairs and snapped his fingers, a thick cushion appearing on the floor to the left of his legs. "Come here, Sarah… and sit."

Blinking, she looked from the cushion to Jareth, confusion etched on her face in the way her forehead creased. "You..what? On the floor?"

"On the cushion," he replied with a nod, then his eyes narrowed sternly upon her. "However if you keep me waiting much longer, I'll remove it and you can sit upon the hard floor. Remember Sarah, part of your punishment for your poor judgement is to do as I say - no questions. No balking. Just obey."

Sarah swallowed thickly and took a wavering breath before moving forward to gracefully sink down on the thick cushion. To her surprise, it was more comfortable than it looked. A weird sort of fluttery warmth settled low in her belly as she sat there, her position on the floor forcing her to look up at him. It took her another moment to recognize the sensation for what it was, when the heavy feeling between her thighs set in, making her shift on the cushion.

"Um...excuse me, what?" she asked, blushing as she realized he had been speaking to her.

Chuckling, Jareth reached out and gently tugged on her hair, sending a cascade of pleasure rushing down her spine to coil into the heavy heat already making itself known.

"I said, you don't seem to really listen to me as often as I would like, Precious."

Her blush deepened, until her cheeks felt like they were glowing. Dipping her head, she twisted a tassel on the from the corner of the pillow between her restless fingers. "Oh…sorry."

Jareth lightly caressed along her jaw, before curling his fingers under her chin and lifting her head to face him once more, his expression thoughtful. Moments ticked by, marked by the clock above the mantel. "I must break you once and for all of this filthy habit, Sarah. I can't risk my ward and future queen embarrassing the kingdom, the royal line or myself because she can't control her mouth." Tilting his head as he looked at her, the Goblin King toyed with a bit of her hair, running it through his fingers. "Starting tomorrow, you will take 5 cane strokes each night for the next 10 days, that will clear the debt for that ridiculous song."

Sarah groaned, her hair falling over her face as she hung her head. "I hate that cane, Jareth."

"I'm sure you do when it is used as punishment. But I promise, someday I'll make you love it to the point you will crave it. It can be both punishment and pleasure, when applied in the right way," he chuckled, teasing her ear with the end of her hair, until she giggled and pulled away, grinning at him. "Now, tell me, Precious… you have been preparing for your oral report that you are to give on Sunday, yes?"

Sighing, Sarah nodded. "Angel and I both have. There's  _a lot_  of information to cover."

A soft laugh brushed past his lips at her display of exasperation. "Yes, there is. That is rather the point of your assignment. Now tell me, based on your research, if you were my sex slave… how would you appear in this room right now?"

The heat in Sarah's cheeks increased tenfold, as her mind flickered rapidly with the fantasy images of herself as his slave, which she had been enjoying during her daydreams for the last week. "Um… well…" she stammered, clearing her throat. Deep within her, the heated warmth seemed to bubble, becoming volcanic, until the first telltale drip rolled from within her, making her squirm on the cushion. "I...I'd be clothed as a slave…" she offered, hoping that would be sufficient.

It wasn't.

"Be more specific, Sarah. I know you have a way with words and writing. Paint me the verbal picture."

Taking a deep breath, she shut her eyes, the heat in her cheeks and belly easier to ignore when she couldn't see his penetrating blue eyes, staring through her. "I'd have purple hair…" she began.

"Naturally. What else?" he demanded quietly.

"I...I'd be wearing slave silks, baring a great deal of my body. Access at all times is...important. It is part of what marks a sex slave from any other kind. And...and a collar with the sigil of the Goblin King on it," she murmured, shifting nervously. "I'd be cuffed as well, probably to match the collar, if not attached to it in some way."

Feeling a tender touch over her bond mark, Sarah's eyes shot open, the silence of the room broken by her startled gasp.

"Would you be marked, Sarah?" he enquired, the dark glint in his eyes telling, as he lightly caressed the mark through her dress, drinking in the way she trembled and moaned softly, before pulling his hand away.

Sarah fought to regain some semblance of composure before answering, her voice soft. "Yes. Royal slaves are always marked with the magical brand of the house they belong to, as well as the primary royal they serve. I would be marked with your crest upon my breast, which would be visible at all times due to the cut of the slave silks. I would also have a magical brand of the royal line near my left hip."

Nodding, Jareth smiled as her eyes fell shut once more. "Look at me, Sarah," he demanded, his words gentle, but carrying an undeniable hint of authority. "There will be no hiding behind shut eyes tonight, darling. I've allowed you to hide from me, your duties and your own needs far too long. Tonight you start facing them."

"I thought this was punishment?"

A quiet chuckle purred in his chest as he answered, "It is, but there is nothing that says punishment can't also be useful, and that use does not always need to relate specifically to the behavior being corrected."

Sarah shivered as Jareth's fingers idly played with her hair, petting her, much like one would a cat. The sudden understanding that he was, in many ways, treating her as if she were his 'pet' sent a rush of moisture to her core, pearl teeth biting back a moan of longing for something she didn't even know she wanted… until now.

"Now then, you've told me what you would wear if you were my slave. Finish painting the picture, how would you be positioned in here with me, hmm?"

Gulping now, Sarah nibbled her lip, her mind offering her a veritable feast of images to draw from in fulfilling his instructions - each one featuring her with long purple hair, plaited and wound around her head, clothed in the diaphanous white silks of a royal slave, a wide golden collar and cuffs adorning her neck, wrists and ankles.

"That depends on what you wanted from me. If it was just to keep me near, I might be on a cushion…"

"Much like you are now?" he asked, the lilt in his tone teasing, but carrying an undercurrent of serious intent.

Sarah cleared her throat and nodded, her eyes shut as her fingertips ran over the brocaded pattern upon the cushion. "Yes, probably like this, although a slave cushion would generally bear the crest of the slave's owner...um… that is their Master," she said, her voice dropping to a whisper on the last word.

"Say that last bit again, Precious. I'm afraid you whispered and I didn't hear you clearly," he ordered, his lips quirking into a sly smile. Whether she realized it or not, in dropping her tone, she said the word with near reverence that he wished to hear more of.

"Master…" Sarah murmured, visibly trembling as the word left her lips.

"Look at me, Sarah," he purred, caressing her cheek when she obeyed and opened her eyes. "Say it again."

"Master," she repeated, trying to ignore the breathy tone in her voice, as Jareth's piercing eyes seemed to drill straight to her clenching core.

"Again."

A sudden rush of heat bloomed within her, making her bond mark burn and itch upon her breast, until she moaned, "Master."

The glint in Jareth's eyes turned dark and predatory, as he smiled at her, his thumb lightly teasing over her lower lip, sending goosebumps up and down her arms. "Get used to that word, Sarah. For the rest of the month, when we are alone in this room, that is how you will address me. Do you understand?"

For a brief moment, Sarah feared her heart may refuse to keep beating, the intensity of his gaze and shock of his words making it seem to stop. Her mind flickered through rapid fire images of herself as his slave, images she had hoarded in the quiet hours of the night while laying next to him.  _'He said it was my choice…'_  she moaned inwardly, even as the thought of being treated as his slave elicited a physical response of need, her nipples tightening almost painfully beneath the thin material of her dress.

"Let me be clear, I am not making you my slave, Sarah. Should you ever offer me that boon, I would happily accept, but that is a decision that carries with it consequences for how you would be expected to behave when we are alone, and trust me...you are not yet ready to accept those consequences," he said softly, his fingers teasing gently along her jaw. "Now, continue…describe how you would be positioned."

Sarah licked her lips and swallowed hard, fighting the way her mouth dried up at the idea of what he had in mind for her. "Um… well… if it was to keep your slave close, you might have them on a cushion like this one, perhaps… even chained to the chair, desk or floor near you."

Sitting back, Jareth regarded her over his entwined fingers, a quiet smile playing across his lips. Her choice of words did not go unnoticed by the Goblin King, in particular the way she changed from speaking of herself, to speaking of a hypothetical 'slave' once he introduced the idea of calling him Master. "We are not speaking of just any royal slave are we, Precious?"

Green eyes blinked at him, her face pinching slightly with confusion. "I...I don't follow?" Seeing his eyes narrow expectantly, Sarah swallowed and added a whispered, "Master."

"Better," he nodded, his fingers petting her head gently once more. "But we are not speaking of any slave, Sarah, for I am quite sure you would never allow your king, your husband...and mate, to take a sex slave or any other for that matter. So just who are we talking about then?"

Shivering at the truth of his words, Sarah dropped her head, leaning slightly into his caress with a quiet purr of her own. "Me…"

"Me what?" he prompted gently.

"Me...Master."

"Good girl," he crooned, stroking her hair tenderly. "Now, continue...and don't forget who we are speaking of."

Momentarily panicked, Sarah struggled to remember what she was supposed to be telling him, while her mind bombarded her with more pictures of her own slavery to Jareth - each one more intimate than the last. "I...um… well… if you were going to punish me… you might have me bound… or displayed in a way that fit the punishment… or even caged...or...or...kenneled…" Feeling a firm tap on the top of her head, she glanced up at Jareth and blushed deeply at the way he arched his eyebrow, glaring at her. "Um… Master," she added softly.

"You keep forgetting, Precious. Should that continue, I will have to take more extraordinary measures to help you remember," he purred, his lips curling in a quiet smirk. "Now continue… you've covered general positioning and punishment possibilities. What have you left out?" Seeing her puzzled expression, he chuckled. "And should I wish to take my pleasure of  _my_   _slave_ , how might she be positioned then, Sarah?"

The flaming pink of her cheeks told as much as the sudden burst of arousal that rushed through the bond link, eliciting an immediate response from his own body. Crossing his legs, Jareth surreptitiously adjusted himself and smiled at her, relishing the scent of panic and anticipation that rose around her. "Don't tell me you haven't thought of that in completing your research project, Sarah - because I know you and Angel talk. And therefore I know you'd be lying to me."

"Do I have to tell you, Jar...um… Master?" she mumbled, correcting herself when his gaze narrowed at her slip up.

"Communication is important, Sarah," he replied, stroking her cheek warmly. The sudden burst of embarrassment twining around arousal amused him - how she could continually fight what she wanted puzzled him. "Believe it or not, this is not part of your punishment, but rather an exercise in obedience and communication. You need to learn to be more comfortable discussing your needs and desires with me, both the mundane and the intimate. Now, do as I bid you… paint the picture, darling."

Groaning, Sarah hung her head, wriggling on the cushion as a sudden rush of heat slid from within her - at this rate, the cushion would be soaked before her time in the study was finished. "The position would depend on the use you intended for… for… me, Ma...Master," she muttered, her words nearly a whisper.

Next to her, Jareth drank in the hesitant words along with the rich scent of her desire. With each new thing he asked of her, the desire grew, the scent now filling the study, heady and exotic. "I am quite sure Angel has schooled you on possible positions for pleasure. Use your imagination if you must," he purred, continuing to pet her head.

"I… you…" she sighed. "If you wished to use me, you could have me bent over the back or arm of the sofa, or over your desk. If you wished to spank me, you might have me over your lap. You could have me bound over a footstool or the coffee table. You could also have me present myself in various unbound positions."

"Describe one," came the quiet demand.

Trembling at the thought of the one that featured often in her daydreams, Sarah whimpered quietly, "Kneeling. Knees apart wide. Hands locked behind my back. It would effectively put me on display for you, and offer easy access to any part of me should you wish it."

Without warning Jareth leaned over and kissed her, the feel of his lips soft and sweet against hers, his fingers tenderly caressing her cheek. Breaking the kiss, he sat back, clearly pleased with her, if the sudden burst of cinnamon and vanilla that swirled around him was any indication.

"Good girl, Sarah. Thank you."

"Thank you?" she asked, shaking her head in confusion. "Why...Master?" she added without thinking about it.

Smiling, Jareth sat back again. In just a few minutes time she had experienced a range of things he wanted her to experience, and was already well on her way to turning some of the behaviours into habits.

"Yes, thank you. Thank you for giving me insight into what you find to be...interesting at least, arousing at best," he replied.

"You can smell it...can't you, Jar...um...Master?" a wave of shame washing through the link.

Jareth nodded, wondering at her reaction. "I can, Precious. And you know what?"

"What?" she mumbled miserably, her eyes dropping to the carpet at her feet.

"It is a good thing and nothing for you to feel ashamed of. We both know the effect these little 'games' have upon each other, don't we?" Sighing, Sarah nodded, her eyes studiously trained on the brocade cushion as she twisted the tassel around her fingers. "Do you know what you've demonstrated just now, Sarah?" Glancing up at him, she shook her head, her inner turmoil clear upon her face. "You have managed to communicate your desires to me. The choices you made in what to describe and how offer great insight into the things that feed your imagination. This helps me learn more about the things that you may enjoy or wish to experience. You also learned to adapt to new expectations, which may be given to you by me, or as a result of being my Queen. That too is important. You've also taken a huge step toward facing and admitting your own needs. All of these things serve to help you become the Queen I know you can be, while helping you learn to be open with me - I have many powers, Precious, but a mind-reader I am not."

Seeing the light of understanding dawn within her eyes, Jareth nodded, caressing her cheek. "Above all there are three things I would have between us… love… trust… and communication. This little exercise helps build at least two of them."

When Sarah leaned into his caress, Jareth smiled, feeling a pang of regret for what he now needed to do, but knowing deep down that it was unavoidable. "However, this exercise was not your punishment. You will receive your caning as I stated earlier, but that is only part of your punishment. I must break you of this objectionable habit. If what I do tonight does not do the trick, I'll have to utilize stronger tactics and I would rather not at this stage in your training and our relationship." Waving his hand toward the space in front of him, he nodded at her, "Stand, Sarah."

Fighting down the wave of nerves that began to roll within her, Sarah stood in front of him, her hands fidgeting into the hem of her sweater. Jareth sat in front of her, his expression serious, all hint of amusement now gone.

"We both know that there are aspects of being a royal sex slave that appeal to you, even if the fantasy appeals more than the actuality of it would," he said quietly.

His words were calm, but edged with a steel Sarah recognized as no longer being 'Jareth', but clearly 'The Goblin King' - her King, and in this room until the turn of the month, her Master. Sarah gulped and nodded mutely. Plucking a shimmering opalescent crystal from the air, he examined it a moment, then peered at her, his stare penetrating and thoughtful.

"Let's see what you might look like as my sex slave, Precious," he murmured, then flicked the crystal at her.

A fluid warmth seemed to rush over her body as the crystal burst. Glancing down, Sarah shivered, gasping at the change. She was bare beneath the nearly transparent white silks of a royal sex slave. Her bond mark was prominently visible, shown off by the low cut drape of the top. Held together by fine golden chains, the thin silk did little to hide her body, if anything it only accentuated her. The dusky rose peaks of her taut nipples pressed tight against the material, the silk teasing across them with each intake of breath until the pebbled tighter still. Biting her lip, her hand flew to her hair, moaning at the feel of the heavy plaits wound around her head. She didn't need a mirror to know her hair was now shimmering shades of purple, held in place with glittering gem hairpins.

The feel of something firm and hard around her neck caught her attention next, her fingers gliding over the cool metal now fastened securely around her throat. Tracing down the center, she felt a smaller replica of the Goblin King's sigil dangling from the bottom edge, just enough to tease the hollow of her throat. Looking down she saw matching golden cuffs around each wrist, a fine chain linking them to the center bottom point of the collar. With each movement of her hands, the chains dragged lightly across her breasts and nipples, constantly teasing them in ways that make her ache deep within.

A cool sensation swirled around her legs, distracting her. Glancing further down, she saw the golden chains low around her hips, the diaphanous silk pieces twisted around the chain to keep it from pinching. There were two layers of silks, the bottom most layer consisting of two panels that hung from the center of the waist chain in front and back. Each piece was only wide enough to cover her from an inch inside her hip, to an inch inside the other hip, and hung to her ankles - leaving her sides completely uncovered and open to view. Without moving, Sarah realized that the minute she would take a step in the silks, the material would move, exposing her to Jareth's view, or anyone else who might be looking. Four shorter pieces were twined around a jeweled belt of purple and gold stones, fluttering lightly against her hips. If she stood still, they draped low enough to cover her further, but the moment she moved, they would shift, allowing the dark curls to be nearly visible through the light material.

Hearing a low growl of approval from Jareth, Sarah's eyes darted to his, her face flushing hotly at the hungry look upon his face. The intensity in his eyes made her knees wobble, as he stood, slowly walking toward her. Reaching out, he ghosted the tips of his fingers up her arm, then moved behind her, the light feel of his fingers on her shoulders the only touch.

"Look, Sarah...see yourself," he purred, his breath hot as it teased across her neck.

Looking up, she found a gilded full-length mirror floating in the air in front of them. His dark eyes bore into hers through the mirror, penetrating and predatory. She could feel each heated breath, caressing her bare flesh, the peaked buds of her breasts pulling tighter with at the erotic image of him dressed in his dark suit, lurking over her shoulder - with every inch of her body on display and his collar locked around her throat. His fingers grazed along the cool metal of the collar until they framed the sigil of the Goblin King.

"Tell me, Precious… from your studies, what are the qualities that make a good royal pleasure slave?"

Sarah fairly moaned from the sensual purr of his words. Her voice cracked when she finally spoke, "They… they must be highly sexual and eager to please. Willing to fulfill any whim of their Master or any order."

Jareth's deep chuckle seemed to vibrate against her back even though he was not touching her. "Their sexual prowess, training and all-around willingness to be used in such a way is obvious, Sarah. Go further. What other qualities must they possess?"

"Um...they...must be beautiful and obedient," she mumbled, transfixed by the way his eyes flickered from pale blue to black as he watched her in the mirror. Taking a deep breath, Sarah struggled to think with the nearness of him and heat of his words against her flesh, while she stood before him, practically naked.

His fingers traced the engraved sigil hanging from her collar, the action making her singularly aware of the heavy weight of the metal, reassuring in its firm hold of her throat.

"You are still focusing on the obvious and superficial, Sarah. A royal pleasure slave must be beautiful and obedient yes, but they must also be intelligent, cultured and well-educated. They must be able to converse with kings about all manner of topics. They must understand the delicate nuances of different cultures, They must be accomplished in the arts, preferably more than one type - music, dance, song, theatre. In the Underground royal pleasure slaves are the equivalent of geisha. They are so much more than a pretty vessel with which to slake the lusts of their masters, but must be the consummate courtesan - lovely to look at, obedient, cultured and educated. For one who is not of noble blood to rise to the rank of royal pleasure slave is a great honor upon the slave and their family. Many pleasure slaves are sent Above by their masters to be educated in the finest universities the Above has to offer, before being returned to their owner to serve."

"Wow," Sarah muttered, her eyes wide as she considered what he revealed. In the research she and Angel had done, she had learned that to achieve the rank of a pleasure slave was a coveted position for those born outside of nobility, but she had no idea the lengths their owners would go to to cultivate them as the perfect courtesan.

"Indeed, yet in all of this, a royal pleasure slave must behave in a way that brings power and honor to their master. They would never dishonor their master, the royal line they belong to, or their own family by using coarse language," he murmured in her ear, his tone hardening, as his eyes narrowed upon her. In the mirror, Jareth watched Sarah bite her lip, her eyes falling to the floor. Around her the bitter scent of shame began to churn, until the bond link was fairly overflowing with it.

Seeing his hand wave slightly in front of her, Sarah glanced up toward the mirror, only to freeze at the sight that met her horrified eyes. Gone were the sensual silks and chains of a royal pleasure slave. Her hair was twisted and knotted up with coarse bits of hemp cord. She was clothed in a cheap mockery of the pleasure slave silks - dingy grey and essentially see through, especially where they were ripped and torn. The jeweled waist chain was now gone, replaced with a sleazy looking belt of paste jewels. Even the chains that held the top around her had changed, becoming blackened with age and disrepair.

"What…?" she gasped, cringing as if that would pull her flesh away from the coarse garment.

Jareth's hands tightened slightly upon her shoulders, holding her in place. "Don't you dare look away!" he growled in her ear, his words harsh and cold. "This is the look of a woman who would use such language in my world, Sarah. A common gutter whore, her 'services' bartered for with shots of ale. Her cunt filled and sullied, so that no honorable man would touch her. Used goods, dressed in a ridiculous mockery of something beautiful and treasured. Take a good look, Precious!"

With a moan Sarah tried to turn away, but Jareth held her fast. Her hands trailed over her body, trying to hide her nudity, but failing. Reaching her neck, she frowned, her eyes questioning as she looked at him through the mirror, his lips twisting in a cruel smile.

"Ahh… you've noticed. No pretty collars of belonging for gutterwhores, Sarah. They are the unwanted - nothing but a wrecked and rotting quim that only the dregs of society would use to vent their urges, but even _they_  would not permit this wretch to call them 'Master'. No... gutter whores don't speak to those who seek to use them. Not Master. Not Sir. Nothing… because no one would acknowledge their words anyway. This... _this_ … is the only woman in our world who would use that language, Sarah," he hissed in her ear, ignoring the way she trembled and still tried to turn away.

"Please… stop… I…" she mumbled, attempting to turn her head.

"Oh no, Precious… we're not through yet. I  _will_  break you of that habit because I will  _not_  allow my mate to fall to this level. I'd sooner throw you in my own dungeon than let  _this_  be your future," he snapped.

With a firm hand on her arm, Jareth bodily turned her and marched her toward the corner of the room. Seeing a large metal cage now tucked between the two bookshelves, Sarah stopped, shaking her head.

"Jareth… please… I… no…not that."

"You act like a common gutter whore, then you shall experience what it is like, Sarah," he growled in her ear.

When she balked further, he bodily picked her up, ignoring her protests and squirming. Depositing her within the cage,Jareth quickly shut the barred door and locked it. With a snap of his fingers, a spinning grey crystal appeared before her eyes.

"Look, Sarah… look into the crystal and see what might be," he crooned, his words still edged with steel, even as they lulled her to silence.

Only when her eyes glazed over and she stared vacantly into the crystal, did he step away, his shoulders hunching. With a sigh, he turned and walked back to his desk, dropping wearily into the large leather chair. A snap of his fingers sent the gilded mirror from the room, while his eyes watched Sarah intently. Within moments tears began their silent descent over her cheeks. Through the bond he could feel her shame and anguish, faint whimpers gurgling in her throat, the sensations making his stomach churn and bile rise in his throat. Whether she knew it or not, this punishment was in some ways going to be harder on him, than on her.

"Jareth?"

Looking toward the door, Jareth ran a hand over his face, a bone-weary sigh shuddering past his lips. "Yes, Mother?"

"What…have you done?" she asked, glancing with barely disguised horror at Sarah, locked in the cage in the corner.

"It is a lesson, Madam. Nothing more. I need to break her of the filthy habit and nothing else was getting through to her."

"Oh Jareth…" Titania murmured, peering closer at Sarah and shaking her head. "And this was the only way?"

"Would you prefer that I beat it out of her?" he snapped, then immediately frowned, his tone despondent. "I am sorry, Mother. I can feel her pain. The decision to do this at all was not an easy one. As it is she still owes me 50 cane strokes, spread out over the next 10 days," he sighed.

Titania quietly approached him, her lavender eyes misting with concern. Laying her hand lightly on his shoulder, she gave a gentle squeeze. "She will need care when the punishment is through, Jareth."

"I am well aware of that, Mother. I have already made the necessary arrangements. She will not be going to classes to tomorrow. I will be keeping her with me for the next 24 hours, until I am sure any residual drop from this lesson, has subsided," he nodded, squeezing his mother's hand in return. "I assure you, I will give her every care that I can after this. She is my mate."

Sighing, Titania kissed the top of his head before leaving the study.

Alone again, Jareth stared at the crying young woman in the cage, her faint whimpers and groans tearing at his heart. He had planned to leave her in the cage until she broke, but in truth, it seemed he would be the one to break first. The steady ticking of the mantel clock was torture, as the minutes passed, each one increasing the anguish he felt until he was unsure whether it was his own or Sarah's.

"Please Sarah… understand," he groaned, his eyes clenching tight at the low moan of loathing from Sarah. "Understand the lesson."

Four minutes…. Five minutes… Ten minutes passed. Then it happened. Arching within the bars of the cage, Sarah gave a keening cry of desolation.

"Jareth… Master… please!"

In an instant he was on his feet, sweeping toward the cage. Before he reached it, a wave of his hand unlocked the door and sent the crystal flying into the ether. Lost without the support of the door, Sarah toppled forward, her emerald eyes dulled under the spell of the crystal. Snatching her up before she could hit the floor, Jareth pulled her into his arms cradling her close as he buried his face in her hair- now returned to her own loose waves.

"Sarah… Precious…" he groaned, tightening his arms around her. Jareth carried her to the sofa and sat, holding her in his lap as she shivered and moaned, slowly coming around from the effects of the crystal. Her whimpered cries gave way to sobs, her arms twining around his neck, clinging to him.

"Master… Jareth… I'm… sorry… please," she whimpered, her face buried against the side of his neck, her tears coating his flesh.

"Shhh… it's okay, Sarah. It's done now. You understand. You'll remember now," he murmured into her hair, his eyes shut tight as he poured reassurance and love through the link to ease her pain.

Slowly her tears subsided and she relaxed against him, the trembling easing. Sniffing, she rubbed her eyes, and laid her head upon his shoulder. "It was horrible," she mumbled, her words barely a whisper. "But, I get it...Master," she added, the last word accompanied by a sudden burst of relief rushing through the link.

"I wish there were another way, Sarah, but with the Yule ball so close, I needed to make sure you understood what was at stake," Jareth murmured, covering her face in tender kisses, before enveloping her once more in a tight embrace.

"Please...Master… I… I feel so...gross," she sighed, blushing deeply.

Rising, Jareth kissed her forehead. "I'm sure you do. I will remedy that."

The room around them twisted and seemed to fold in on itself before fading. When it unfolded again, they were standing in the large bathroom in Jareth's suite. Shivering from the sudden transportation, Sarah groaned, burying her face against Jareth's neck. In the next moment she felt herself being lowered into steaming water and jerked, gasping in his arms as her eyes shot open. Blinking she looked down, to find she was nude and sitting in Jareth's huge tub, tendrils of steam rising from the surface of the water. Beside her, Jareth knelt outside the bathtub and began to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt. When they were folded past his elbows, he picked up a nearby hand towel, deftly rolling it, then pressing it gently over her eyes.

"Lean back a bit for me, love."

She hesitated only a moment before doing as he instructed, his hand firm as he supported her back, while his other hand poured warm water over her head, until her hair was soaked, streams of water running through the heavy tresses. Guiding her to sit up again, Sarah groaned with pleasure when she felt his fingers begin to massage her scalp, lathering a deeply masculine scented shampoo through her hair.

"Um...not that this doesn't feel fabulous, but it seems… wrong somehow… Master."

His chuckle was low and purring in reply. "Enlighten me as to how this is wrong, Precious one."

Blushing at the new term of endearment, Sarah sighed, leaning her head back to give him better access. "Well… I am...um… if I was your slave, then this would be…wrong?" she muttered, clearly confused as to whether she was asking a question or making statement.

"And here is where the gaps in your dubious 'education' at Angel's hands start to fail you, Sarah love," Jareth laughed softly, his hand cradling her as he gently lay her back again and started to rinse her hair. "If you were my slave, after any sort of intense scene or punishment even, it would be incumbent upon me to care for you. After all, if you don't take care of your toys, you can't play with them can you?"

Sarah giggled quietly and shook her head as he sat her up again, his fingers taking the folded towel and wiping water from her face. Blinking she looked at him. She didn't need the heady scents surrounding them or the feelings coursing through the link to tell her how he felt at that moment - the love was shining in his eyes.

"So, I take care of your needs because while a slave lives to serve, the life of a pleasure slave is reciprocal...at least in the royal line of my family. Those that take slaves, even if the slave is their spouse, take care of them," Jareth explained gently as he lathered a cloth and began to run soap over her shoulders and arms. "Lift," he ordered, then smiled as she immediately obeyed and lifted both arms for him to bathe her. "Both the slave and the master should benefit from the relationship - there is obviously the expectation for the slave to serve, but there are times in which the master must care for the slave. It is not service per se, as much as it is protecting their investment. Aside from that, it is the slave's job to obey the whim of the master. If I wished to bathe you, that in and of itself is sufficient reason for you to obey - to sit back, relax and enjoy what I am doing."

"Yes...Master," she whispered, wondering at the amusement creeping through the link from Jareth. "Can I ask a question?"

"Yes, pet… you may always ask questions when we are alone, provided you are respectful in this space," he replied, turning her to face him and drizzling more soap on the cloth, before starting to run the warm wet cloth over her breasts, taking his time but making no attempt to tease her intimately. His touch was gentle, but officious, with one goal - to wash away the reminder of the scene that had played in the crystal.

Sighing, Sarah's eyes fell shut, his touch momentarily distracting her. "Why are you laughing at me… Master?"

Jareth smiled and leaned forward, kissing her forehead. When she opened her eyes, he kissed her again - his lips capturing hers with gentle heat that coiled through her body. Leaning back, he added more soap to the cloth and paused, cocking his head thoughtfully.

"I am not laughing, Sarah. But I am amused by you." Seeing her pout, he shook his head and smiled. "Not in a malicious way, love. I am amused by the way you hesitate before adding 'Master' at the end of your speech. You hesitate, but at the same time, each time you say it, I feel the telltale rush of forbidden pleasure that you seem to enjoy. So I am amused by your reluctance to accept something that feels comforting and brings you pleasure."

Frowning, Sarah trailed her hand through the water, her eyes following the ripples as they moved. "I shouldn't like that."

"Says who?"

Sarah stared at the ripples, then shook her head, "I don't know. It just seems like I shouldn't like that. That giving up my power...my control… is wrong."

Caressing her cheek with his warm hand, Jareth smiled. "Sarah, it is only wrong if you give up the power and allow yourself to be abused in the process. Tell me honestly, have I abused you?"

Her expression turned pensive, as she pursed her lips in thought. "You can be bossy and demanding and somewhat unreasonable at times, but no. I wouldn't call what you have done abusive."

"And the punishment?" he asked. "Is that abuse?"

Sarah was silent for a long moment then shook her head. "No. I wouldn't call that abuse either. I get why you do it. It's a cultural thing and I have to learn. And even when you do it, I know that you care about me and don't want to hurt me. At the end of the day you dislike doing it and would rather I not need the correction."

Nodding, Jareth beamed proudly at her. "Exactly. Now you understand, darling. So with all of those things in mind, is it so wrong to give up that bit of control to me and let me take care of you as  _my_  girl?"

Her expression darkened thoughtfully, as she pinched her lower lip with her teeth. "But, I can't be your pleasure slave, I can't do…  _that_."

Jareth shook his head and chuckled, "Stand up, Precious."

Despite blushing furiously, Sarah did as he instructed her, standing in the steaming water. The feel of him continuing to bathe her was both decadent and strange. He guided the cloth over her stomach then lower, teasing briefly between her thighs, before rinsing it out and starting again to soap her legs. Turning her away from him, he ran the soaped cloth over her lower back and bum, then again down her legs. When he was satisfied he nodded toward the water, "Sit."

Obediently she settled back into the water, her cheeks feeling as hot as the water that surrounded her. With a snap of his fingers the washcloth was rinsed and draped on a nearby rack. Jareth sat alongside the tub, his arms draped over the marble and smiled at her.

"While there are many ways you could be my pleasure slave starting tonight, that would not involve actual consummation of our bond, the fact of the matter is that I do not want you as my pleasure slave."

The wave of despondency and despair that surged through the link nearly took Jareth's breath away, only topped by the whispered words from Sarah, "You don't want me?"

"No! No, love!" he groaned, clasping her hands in his and kissing her palms. "That isn't it at all, Precious. As I said before, if you were to truly offer yourself thusly and mean it, with full understanding of the consequences and rules you would be bound by, then I would accept the offer without a moment's hesitation. But you are still some way off of that decision, Sarah. There are things I would have you learn first so you are fully aware of the commitment you would be making to your mate and king."

"Then why, Master," she mumbled with a dejected sniff.

"I don't want you as such... _yet_ … Sarah. I would have your first time with me to be with your willing consent, not out of some sense of duty due to offering yourself to me as my slave," he sighed, frustration warring within him as he tried to make her understand the intricacies of such things. Rising, he picked up a towel then pulled her to stand again. With her hand in his, he helped her step out of the tub and began to tenderly dry her. "Tell me, Sarah… why have you obeyed me as I have bathed you, even though you are still shy about being nude in front of me?"

Biting her lip, Sarah shrugged, the pink flush creeping from her cheeks down to nestle between her breasts. Sarah gasped as he parted her thighs, bringing the soft towel up between them, then continuing to dry her, with no hint of teasing or other desire. Puzzled she watched him

"I don't know… it… "

"Be honest, Sarah...this is important," he murmured, his words quiet and firm.

Nodding, Sarah swallowed hard, her voice softer as she spoke, "It seemed right to just do as you asked. It made me feel good...Master."

Jareth wrapped the towel around her and smiled, his fingers tracing the line of her jaw, then down the length of her throat, following the pink flush. "I'll tell you why, Sarah. With all of the things that have gotten you in trouble with me since your arrival, you truly do enjoy being a good girl…  _my_ good girl. You enjoy knowing that while I may have power over you, I will always take care of you, even moving the stars for you should it be needed. You felt safe in the knowledge that in accepting me as your Master, you would be safe and cherished."

Turning her to face the mirror, Jareth wrapped his arms around her, his hands laying over her stomach. A tremor ran through her at the closeness of him, but she did not make any move to escape his arms. "Does your neck feel bare, Sarah? Having felt the reassuring weight of a collar of ownership, do you feel as if something is missing now?"

Sarah didn't move for a long moment, then nodded, her emerald eyes shimmering with quiet sadness. Smiling, Jareth trailed his fingertips up her stomach and through the valley between her breasts. When his fingers reached her shoulders, she gasped, the fluffy towel now replaced with the diaphanous, translucent purple lounging silks of a pleasure slave in training, the light material crafted into a loose shirt similar to those favored by High Fae, the sleeves full, while the front laces extended down past her waist. Between the deep lacing and the translucent material, there was little left to the imagination - not that he hadn't already seen her in far less.

Bringing his hand up further, Jareth teased it over her throat with the barest of touches, until a silver collar appeared. Instead of the wide flat band he had shown her earlier, this collar was crafted from delicate links, with no visible closure- a never-ending chain. Hanging from the collar was a small silver replica of his sigil.

Sarah's eyes fairly glowed as she caught his gaze in the mirror, all her questions flashing through the green orbs.

"You are still learning, Precious, so this is a fair compromise to what your fantasies insist that you want, and what makes you feel good and safe. You have until 9 tomorrow night to decide if this is a compromise you truly want. No harm, no foul if you decide this is not what you desire at this time. Until then, you will remain with me and adopt the behaviours of a pleasure slave in training. Within this room, you will address me as Master, outside of this room Jareth or Sire will suffice. You will remain with me at all times and not leave my sight without permission or instruction to do so," he explained, his fingers tracing the links of the fine chain around her neck, sending goosebumps racing over her body. "There are no intimate expectations of you, however if you have needs or desires, our original arrangement still stands - you have only to ask me. You will be expected to obey the rules you have been given, and any requests I make of you - knowing that I will not ask for anything that contravenes my oath to you."

Tilting his head, he trailed heated kisses along the side of her throat, then turned her to face him, his hand gently cupping her cheek. "The choice is yours, Sarah. Do you want to try it, to taste the comfort that can be found by giving over control to me?"

"Will...will the others know? Your family?"

"My family will suspect and as long as they know it is your decision and dependent upon your continued consent to the 'training' then, they will be thrilled for the both of us. After the initial 24 hours, you will return to your schooling and I to my work - but when the house shuts down for the night, should you wish to join me in here, this will be what you agree to."

Sarah sucked on her upper lip a moment, her own fingers brushing against his as they slid over the intertwined links of the collar.

"Yes," she finally whispered.

"Yes what?"

Her green eyes drifted up to his piercing blue ones, a spark of conviction flickering within them. "Yes, Master," she replied, adding the title without hesitation or the burst of shame he had come to expect to feel.

Dipping his head, Jareth purred, "Good girl." His lips sought hers, meeting no resistance as his tongue delved within, tasting the delightful notes of vanilla, cinnamon and spices that now covered her, flowing from every molecule of her being. Leaving her breathless, he broke the kiss and scooped her into his arms, laughing at her startled squeak.

"Now then… to bed with you, pet."

"But Master...I'm not tired," she protested.

"Do you really want to disobey me so soon, Sarah?"

Shaking her head, Sarah let Jareth tuck her into her usual spot in his bed. "Trust me, Precious. After what happened in my study, I fully expect that you will experience some emotional upheaval in the next day, which is partly why I want you with me so I can see to your care...but sleep will help reduce the potential negative effects."

In the time it took Jareth to walk around the bed to his side, his clothing transformed, leaving him clothed in his loose lounging pants. Sliding into the bed, he pulled Sarah back tight against his chest, his fingers toying with the links of the chain around her throat. Snuggling closer, Sarah yawned, her eyelids drooping heavily.

"No fair...spelling me," she mumbled, already half-asleep.

"There was no need, Precious… I can read the signs. Don't fight it, just let sleep take you," he whispered, smiling in the dark as her breath slowed, her body relaxing against his in her sleep.

"You are mine, Sarah...now and forever," he murmured into the silent darkness, a smile still upon his lips as sleep claimed him.


	33. Aftercare

Rolling over, Sarah purred as she gave a feline stretch, then sprawled in the middle of Jareth's bed. The sheets under her back were still warm and smelled strongly of night jasmine and rain, indicators that her bedmate hadn't been up for long. During the nights, she rarely had the luxury to stretch out, as Jareth usually had her tucked tightly to his body, his arm draped over her in a gesture that was possessive, but oddly comforting. In the mornings, he would wake her when the sun rose to return to her rooms, since he preferred to get an early start on the day - this was the first chance she had to really stretch out.

Sarah smiled, lazily wriggling into the nest of blankets and enjoying the ability to hog the bed.  _I could do this in my own bed, but Jareth's is bigger...and bonus...it smells like him._  Yawning, she cracked her eyes and looked up at the navy curtains that draped the ceiling above her, the length of the material twined with golden stitching that twisted in an elaborate knotwork pattern. From the bathroom she could hear the shower running. The thought of Jareth in the shower sent a delicious little shiver through her, her libido waking up and demanding that she go join him - an idea that was overruled by the more prudent part of her mind.

' _Still, the thought of a nude Jareth is definitely something that is worth spending more daydream time on,'_ she giggled to herself.

Sarah shifted slightly, moving her body further into the sun beam that fell on the bed from the balcony doors, a contented purr rumbling in her chest. Flickering images from the night before played in her head, each one carrying a confusing mix of emotions with it - shame, lust, desire, fear, curiosity, anguish. They were all there, yet she lay there in his empty bed, the smell of him covering her like a blanket, feeling content… and loved.

_And collared. Fuck! I'm collared._

At that thought, her hand immediately shot to her throat, slender fingertips caressing the fine silver links. The gentle weight of the collar and the sigil that lie in the hollow of her throat were oddly reassuring, a sign that she belonged somewhere. Lifting her other arm, Sarah turned her head, watching the way the translucent purple material glided over her arm, accentuating her body, without being fully on display - yet at the same time it did little to hide her.

_Collared. To Jareth. Pleasure slave. Training._

Her mind screamed at her, yet still she felt a relaxed sense of calm.

A phantom breeze played over her body, sending goosebumps racing over her skin, the sudden sensation of being watched making her pause. Rolling her head toward the bathroom, a hot flush crept into her cheeks. She  _was_ being watched - by the Fae King whose collar she now wore.

Leaning against the doorway of the bathroom, Jareth's pale chest glistened in the sunlight, standing in stark contrast to the black towel wrapped low around his hips. His hair fell about his face, weighed down by the water that dripped down his neck, to roll in lazy rivulets down the smooth expanse of his chest. Still watching her, he ran another towel over his hair, drying it briskly until it fluffed up around his head. Gone was the short style he wore above. Here, in this moment, was the Goblin King.

_An almost naked Goblin King!_

His pale eyes glittered - looking at her as if he wanted to devour her whole.

"What?" she asked, blushing under his steady gaze, the intensity of it making her stomach flutter. Arching an eyebrow, his eyes shimmered, predatory and golden until she gulped, her cheeks burning hotter as she added, "Master."

"You'll learn," he chuckled, draping the damp towel over of his shoulder, his smile warm, yet somehow sensual. "Although if you don't, I have other  _games_  that will help you remember."

A shiver of delight rushed through her at the thought of what 'games' he might have in mind, the sensation pooling low within her. Biting her cheek, Sarah pressed her thighs together beneath the thick comforter on Jareth's bed. Keenly aware of the towel draped upon his hips, barely covering his body and her own state of near undress, Sarah felt her face burn and found herself scooting further across the bed away from him.

"With regard to 'what' I was thinking, I was merely enjoying the sight of you relaxing in my bed and marveling at your beauty, Precious."

With a bashful smile, Sarah tucked her hair behind her ear, her emerald eyes darting away from Jareth's knowing gaze. Pushing herself up to sit against the head of the bed, she felt the flush creep down her chest, as the wide opening of the shirt slid open, exposing her breast. With her cheeks tingling, she snatched at the shirt, pulling it across to cover herself, the movement teasing her nipple until it pulled taut, making itself more visible through the semi-sheer material.

"Yeah well, you've been wonderful about respecting my... fears and um...limits. So unless you plan on turning into a complete creep and trying to…."

Hearing a low growl from Jareth, Sarah's head snapped up, the word 'Master' rising to her lips then dying unsaid as he swiftly crossed the room and sat next to her on the bed. Capturing her hands in his, he lifted them toward his lips to press tender kisses against the pulse points of both wrists. The way his eyes darkened with emotion startled her. A sudden rush of pain flooded through the link, the force of it making her gasp.

"Sarah… I gave you my oath that I would only take that which you freely offered. I would never dishonor you as my bond-mate in such a way - whether that bond is fully consummated or not." Caressing the collar briefly, he shook his head, frustration and distress pulsing through the bond, twisting and twining around each other until they felt inseparable. Sarah's fingers found his, together toying with the chain around her neck. " _This_ … this symbol does not change my oath to you, Sarah." Jareth sighed deeply, pulling her to him and wrapping his arms around her, his lips covering her face with tender kisses. "I will never harm you in such a barbaric way. You are far too precious to me, love."

Holding her close, Jareth pressed a reverent kiss to the top of her head, relishing the feeling of having her in his arms, only to be surprised at the feel of her slender arms wrapping around him, Inside, he could feel her timidly working to manipulate the bond, a slow wave of feminine reassurance and love washing through it.

"I know...I do...I just…I know I am safe with you, Jareth," she murmured quietly against his chest.

The two sat in silence for some time, before Jareth released her, kissing her forehead with a warm smile. "You could go back to sleep you know. There is no need for you to be up and about yet."

Sarah's emerald eyes narrowed, her face pinching in confusion. "Um… shouldn't I… I don't know, be up and with you… Master?"

"First, you needn't continue to end every sentence with 'Master'. I appreciate that you are trying to obey, but we are alone and are not involved in any form of play at the moment, so it is not necessary. Use it if you are answering a direct question, only - which signals respect and that you are obeying the implied demand of an answer."

Nibbling her lower lip, Sarah nodded. "Yes… Sir…" she replied, her tone creeping up in question.

Chuckling Jareth winked at her, "That is acceptable for times when you feel a little something 'extra' is needed, Sarah. Now, as to you being with me this morning, if I wished you to begin your day when I did, then that is what would happen. But I am also keenly aware of what you went through last night. You are likely to be tired today and I would far rather you sleep longer if you need it."

Leaning against the pillows that lined the head of the bed, Sarah shook her head and rubbed her face, "No...I'm awake now...I guess."

Jareth smiled, laughing inwardly.  _Always so stubborn, my Sarah._

"Well, as you seem to be up for the day, how are you feeling?"

"Lazy… and a bit… blah actually. My mood is up one moment, then down. Then sideways… it's just...blah," Sarah sighed, then caught his eye and added a hasty, 'Master' to the end of her sentence.

Jareth smiled warmly at her, his fingers deftly lacing her purple shirt up the center, covering her further. "That is normal, Sarah. I rather expected you might feel a bit of 'drop' today."

"Drop?"

"Yes. Following an intense physical or emotional experience, is is common to have something of an extended reaction the following day. Some people find their mood to be unstable, others may be euphoric. Still others might find themselves feeling melancholy. They may become clumsy, forgetful or just seem as if they are pleasantly numb. Any or all of those may apply, because each person is different."

Sarah's nose wrinkled in a frown. "So, it's a kink thing? Sounds like being drugged."

Shaking his head, Jareth ran his finger over the sigil hanging from her collar, relishing the show of goosebumps that skittered across her shoulders and chest and the light touch.

"Most would say so, but that is not entirely true. Think about it, have you ever gone on a wonderful vacation, then found yourself feeling blue and off-balance when you returned home?" Around her the scent of molding leaves rose, signaling her confusion, even as she nodded. Smiling, Jareth, stroked her cheek. "Drop is brought about by your body's release of various endorphins during an intensely emotional event or scene of some sort, more precisely, it is a function of them leaving your system."

"I'm not sure I like the feeling. It's… weird," Sarah muttered.

Nodding, Jareth rose from the bed and walked toward the closet. "The first few times it happens, it can feel like that. Over time, most people discover ways to combat any of the 'weirdness'. But this is an example of what I explained to you last night - this is the type of situation when a responsible Master would pay attention to and take care of the needs of his slave. Hence, why you are to remain with me today."

"So you can't just magic it away?" she asked.

Jareth paused and leaned against the dresser, watching her. The timidness in her tone concerned him, but she was clearly trying to do as he had instructed her.

"I'm afraid it doesn't work that way, Precious. One of the things we will explore if you accept that collar, is what types of scenes and interactions trigger positive 'drop' experiences for you, and which make you feel 'blah' or sad. In general though, the only known cure is contact. What you need is rest, good food and copious cuddles. And that is exactly what you shall get."

Blinking, Sarah gave him an incredulous look, the look on her face clearly suggesting she was waiting to find out what the 'catch' would be. "You're teasing, right?"

"No...why? Would you like me to?" he asked, his serious expression morphing to a wolfish grin.

The brief flash of his canines made Sarah blush thinking about just what they felt like when he nipped her tenderest spots. Flustered, she gulped and shook her head, "Um...no...that's okay, Master...um...for now."

"Later then," he chuckled. Turning toward the closet, he pulled the towel from around his hips and dropped it into the hamper near the dresser, only to freeze at the shrill squeak from Sarah.

"Jareth!"

Glancing back at the bed, his laughter got the best of him, spilling forth in rich peals at the sight that met him - Sarah huddled against the pillows her hands clapped firmly over her eyes.

"Is there a problem, love?"

"Yes! You're naked!" she squeaked with her hands still covering her eyes.

"Well, I've seen you nude, it seems only fair that I should extend you the same courtesy. I know how much you insist upon things being,  _fair_ ," he teased, delighting in the way her cheeks turned an even more vibrant shade of pink than usual, the color flowing down her chest as if it were painted with a brush. "Isn't that generous of me, Precious?" When she squeaked and hunched lower in the bed, he laughed louder. "Would you like me to come closer so you can have a proper look?"

"NO! Put clothes on!" she yelped, sinking down in the bed until her head was buried under the pillows. Feeling a finger teasing her nipple through her shirt, Sarah squeaked and squirmed away from the probing hand.

"Excuse me, pet...but you are already forgetting your manners," Jareth purred, teasing her nipple again. "You don't give the orders around darling. And you are forgetting one teeny, tiny, ever-so-important thing...who am I, Sarah?"

The heat of longing stirred deep within her as his tone dropped, filled with seductive promise.

"Answer me, darling. Who am I?" he prompted her again.

"Master," Sarah mumbled from beneath the pillows. "Now will you put some clothes on… please?"

Laughing Jareth made his way back to the closet, "Silly girl. That is what I was trying to do when you screamed and started ordering me about. Not even wife, Queen or mated yet and you're already trying to order me around. What shall I do about that, hmm?"

Several minutes later, Sarah felt something heavy drop on top of her, falling over her head and part of her shoulder. Cracking an eyelid she peeked from under the pillow to find Jareth's favourite dressing gown draped over her.

"If you aren't going to go back to sleep, then you need to eat. Put that on and come with me," Jareth instructed her.

Sarah pulled her head out from the beneath the pillow, drinking in the sight of him. He was clothed now, in a pair of faded grey jeans and a simple button down shirt, his hair returned once more to the Aboveground cut he preferred. All in all he looked like a normal human man - but that did very little to dull the sheer sensuality that was just… Jareth.

Sitting up, Sarah looked at the dressing gown, a slight frown turning her lips. "It's your robe."

"Yes. I fail to see the problem."

"Well...um… I just...I thought that because of  _this_ ," she muttered tugging on her collar, "...that I would only be allowed to wear silks or…  _this,"_ she continued, gesturing toward the diaphanous purple shirt she was wearing.

"Darling, while I would like nothing better than to see you sitting in my parlor dressed in silks, it is chilly in the house this morning and I would rather you not get sick," he replied, picking up the robe, and holding it open for her to slide into.

Watching him warily, Sarah slipped out of bed and shrugged on the robe, biting her lip when Jareth turned her to face him, his fingers quickly tying the sash with a firm tug. With his hands still on her waist, he pulled her closer, the thick brocade doing little to hide the feel of his body against hers - hard planes and angles, accentuated by one particularly firm area that pressed tightly against her. The look in his eyes softened as he smiled at her. Leaning in, his lips caressed hers, parting slightly to suck upon the succulent flesh, only to drink in Sarah's quiet sigh. With a smile, Jareth stepped back and took her hand in his.

"Come, love… breakfast will be arriving soon," he said, leading her through the door into his parlor. Settling her at one end of the sofa, he tucked a plush blanket around her, and handed her a leather bound book. "I think you'll enjoy that, it is written by a well known courtesan in the Underground."

Jareth sat at the other end of the sofa and pulled her bundled feet into his lap. Watching him through hooded eyes, Sarah wondered at the way his mood shifted, from warm and loving to 'officious'. Physically he was still with her, yet his mind was a million miles away, as he began to tap upon the laptop. Tilting her head, Sarah took her time studying him. She'd been living in his house for three months now, and this was the first chance she had to really look at him. Her memories of him in the Labyrinth did not do him justice. Even in his Aboveground glamour, he was striking. The angle of the warm morning sunlight pouring through the window seemed to glow through the fine strands of his hair, as they fell carelessly over his forehead. Despite the 'human' guise, his eyebrows arched elegantly, giving him an ethereal look.  _'The eyebrows are sculpted and feminine, but there is no question that he is all male,'_ she thought, biting her lip, and fighting the urge to squirm at the sudden throb of her clit. In the brief flash she had of his naked body, there was no doubt in her mind that he was all male...and a rather impressive specimen at that.

Feeling her cheeks heat, Sarah sucked on her lower lip, letting her eyes travel the sharp angles of his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose.

' _I wonder if our kids will get his cheekbones...I hope so,'_  she mused, then blinked and dropped her gaze to the book in shock. _'Fuck! When did I start thinking about having kids with Jareth?! Shit...please don't let him sense it!"_

Flipping the book open, Sarah tried to banish her errant thoughts by trying to read, but for as much of the text she understood at the moment, the whole thing might as well have been written in ancient goblin. No matter how much she tried to concentrate, her mind kept flitting from thing to thing and back again. Peering up at him through a veil of hair, she nearly giggled seeing the way he pulled at his bottom lip with his teeth. _'So that's where Toby picked that up,'_  she snickered inwardly, her lips curling in a grin.

"You're smiling at me, Precious. What's going through that devious mind of yours?" he chuckled, his hands falling to idly rub her foot. Sarah purred happily when Jareth dug his thumb into the spot that always made her melt. "Oh, it would seem I've found your pause button. Perhaps I should stop?"

Groaning, Sarah shook her head, her head falling back against the side of the sofa as she moaned. "Gods...no...please...don't stop…"

Jareth's eyes darkened at the breathy moan, a sly smile playing over his lips. Curling his tongue around the points of his teeth, he growled softly, "Hmm… I rather like hearing you say that. Although I can think of other scenarios in which it might be even more… pleasurable."

Seeing the wicked promise in his face, Sarah bit back another moan, a tremor running through her. "I… um…" she stammered, only to jump when a knock sounded on the parlor door. "Shi…ip." she gasped, trying to pull her feet from Jareth's lap, only to have him hold her ankles firmly, shaking his head.

"Stay, Sarah."

"Jareth! I can't… Mrs. Brown! She'll see!" Sarah hissed, struggling to get her feet free.

Her struggles were useless, Jareth only tightened his grasp on her ankles, holding her in place. "Sarah, in time you will have a suite adjoining mine in this wing. Tess needs to get used to the idea. She is a servant in this house and you are over the age of consent. I want you to stay right where you are," he replied firmly, as he reached over and lifted the collar of his robe so that it lay over the silver chain around her neck. Before she could protest further, he barked, "Enter!"

Gulping, Sarah felt vaguely ill, her stomach flipping and fluttering wildly. Unable to bear seeing disapproval in Mrs. Brown's face, Sarah kept her attention on the book in her lap, her eyes staring at the black type that formed neat lines across the pristine pages - while her mind failed to register a single word.

As the door opened, Jareth resumed rubbing Sarah's feet, pressing firmly with his thumbs against the spot that usually made her purr, short-circuiting her ability to think, much less protest. Beside him, she gave a soft groan of pleasure, the bitter smell of embarrassment fading momentarily, to be replaced with roses and vanilla as she relaxed a fraction.

"Good morning, darling… Tess was going to bring in your breakfast tray, but I thought it best that she should go see to Toby since Sarah is with you," Titania chirped as she breezed into the room, balancing a heavily laden tray in her hands. Seeing Sarah she beamed, "Ahh! You're up! I had thought you'd still be sleeping, Sarah dear."

Surprised by the sudden burst of irritation that rushed through the bond, Sarah glanced quizzically at Jareth - his jaw tight as he clenched his teeth, a fine pulse ticking near his ear.  _'Why is he upset with her. He usually flows with love when Titania is around,'_ she mused.

Still chattering at Jareth, Titania ignored his obvious disapproval of her intrusion. The High Queen sat the laden tray on the coffee table, then waved her hands at Sarah and Jareth, neat breakfast trays appearing upon their laps.

"Now then, Sarah dear… for you something light but filling. It's a bad idea to have anything heavy after what happened last night. And Jareth darling, Tess sent up your usual breakfast."

Sarah peered from her plate to Jareth's, a pang of jealousy making her stomach grumble. Her plate held what appeared to be an egg white omelette stuffed with vegetables and some toast, whereas Jareth's held a stack of pancakes dripping with blueberry syrup, eggs and bacon.

"That's not fair. I love Tess's pancakes," she muttered, nudging the omelette with her fork, her lip poking out in a pout.

Jareth chuckled, finding the sight of her petulant frown oddly endearing. "I"ll share my breakfast after she leaves," he murmured in a stage whisper, only to flinch when his mother swatted him alongside the head with the napkin she was in the process of offering him.

"You will not! You will listen to your mother, Jareth! She needs light foods today. Nothing too rich until supper."

Frowning, Sarah arched an eyebrow at Titania, in a manner so close to Jareth's own scowl that TItania couldn't help but laugh. "Oh Sarah dear, you seem a bit grumpy. Perhaps you need more sleep? I know such things can wear a person out. Jareth you didn't keep her up too late afterward did you?"

Sarah harrumphed and crossed her arms over her chest, her own irritation melding with Jareth's through the bond, as the two of them glared at the High Queen with nearly identical expressions.

"Okay… just what do you think happened last night?" Sarah demanded, giving Jareth a dark look. "We didn't  _do_  anything if that is what you are getting at."

"Do anything?" Titania asked looking puzzled. A moment later she beamed, her voice light and lilting, as she waved her hand at Sarah, her laughter chiming through the room. "Oh, darling...I know you haven't consummated the bond. No, no...no...I was referring to your punishment dear," the Queen replied, her tone suggesting that the answer was obvious and somehow Sarah missed it.

Jareth groaned and rubbed the back of his neck, as Sarah's face went crimson. A rush of embarrassment flooded through the bond, then just as quickly it was replaced with an anger so strong it made his bond mark sting viciously. Absently he stroked the stinging mark, wondering at the new sensation. Sarah's emerald eyes narrowed on the Jareth, a faint buzz of magic electrifying the air around her.

"She  _saw_  that?" Sarah hissed, then pulled her feet from Jareth's lap, tucking them under her bum and away from his touch. "And just  _when_  were you going to tell me me about that?"

Running his hand over his face, Jareth cursed his mother to the four winds, while trying to keep the anger from his words. "Yes...I'm afraid she barged in while you were in the cage..." he sighed, hoping Sarah would understand.

"I never barge, Jareth," Titania tisked, moving to tuck a napkin in the neck of the robe Sarah was wrapped in, completely undeterred by the way Sarah clutched at the fabric around her neck.

Snatching the napkin from his mother, Jareth grumbled, "You barged in last night and again this morning. You are interfering, Madame."

"I am doing nothing of the sort, darling. Why are you so defensive? Unless you've done something untoward?" Frowning now, Titania looked at Sarah, her violet eyes quickly scanning her, "Are you feeling well dear? Has Jareth taken care of you?"

Sarah glared at him as he leaned forward, her irritation dying somewhat when he deftly tucked the napkin over the links of the collar, effectively hiding it from his mother's prying eyes. "What? Yes… Of course he has…" she replied, a frown creasing her forehead. "Jareth's always been lovely to me."

"Mother!" Jareth snapped, his voice rising. "She is my mate. I  _love_  her. I will always take care of her whether that is caring for her when she is ill or any other care she may need. Now will you kindly...BUGGER OFF!"

"Well, you needn't shout Jareth," Titania huffed, the hurt on her face at odds with her laughing eyes. Patting Sarah's shoulder, she smiled. "Now, don't let him wear you out today, dear. Sleep more, it will help. And don't you two worry about Toby, he's gone off with Auberon. Your Father has been dying to show the boy off at High Council."

Jareth's anger nearly got the better of him at that news. "I told you that I did not want Toby going Underground without his sister and myself!"

"Oh relax, Jareth dear. You're the boy's father, Auberon is not trying to usurp that. Neither of us will interfere in your role as father. They've gone to meet the others in London for one of their 'boys lunch' things they so love. Toby will be fine and home in time for dinner. Now...eat up while your breakfast is still warm," she said, patting Jareth's arm before she flitted back out of the room.

The door to Jareth's parlor shut with a muted thud, leaving the two of them in silence, both glaring at the door - if looks could kill, the door would have surely been ash. After a long moment, Jareth pinched the bridge of his nose and groaned, trying to ignore the sharp smell of ash and vinegar that wrapped around him from Sarah, her embarrassment and anger palpable in the quiet of the room.

"I'm sorry, Precious. I truly am. There is absolutely no excuse for that woman, sometimes." Reaching over he took Sarah's plate and put his own on her tray. "Eat the pancakes, love. Unlike my mother's views, in my own experiences a bit of sugar goes further for easing drop."

Still frowning, Sarah shook her head, her arms crossed firmly over her chest. "Not until you tell me how much she knows about what happened last night?"

Jareth sighed, then nodded. He would rather not be having this conversation, but his mother's intrusion left him little choice.  _Blast that woman...things were finally going well with Sarah and now this!_

"Mother came in while you were in the cage, living through the crystal dream." Seeing Sarah's shock, Jareth reached out and took her hand in his. When she tried to pull away, he grasped her hand more firmly, gently stroking his thumb over her knuckles. "It's okay, Sarah," he murmured quietly. "My mother is familiar with what you were experiencing in the crystal, because my father used that very crystal on Alais when she was not much older than you."

Sarah paused, blinking at him as she tried to process his words. Through the various punishments she had endured at his hand, she had forgotten that what was happening to her was not unusual in their culture and that Jareth, as well as his siblings had been through similar things. "Wait...She… she had to go through that too?"

Feeling her anger fade a bit, Jareth squeezed her hand and smiled quietly. "Yes, love. I did not invent that particular punishment, but merely borrowed it. Alais was far more willful than you, so I knew it would make an impression upon you. With Yule nearly upon us, I needed you to finally understand the seriousness of this matter."

The irritation in Sarah's eyes softened further. After a long moment, she nodded. "Okay. But...next time, I want you to tell me if any of your family sees me when I'm...well...incapacitated."

Jareth raised her hand to his lips, gently caressing her fingers with light kisses. "I had intended to tell you, Precious, but did not have the chance before my mother decided to check up on us."

Looking at her hand, he caressed her ring finger where one day he would happily see the ring he already had secreted away in his dresser. A deep sigh shook him. Vulnerability was not an easy thing for Fae - if one were to show any hint of such amongst the wrong people, they might make themselves a target of another's power hungry nature.  _If I want her to trust me fully and let me rule her the way she craves, she needs to see that side._

"You know I value honesty, Sarah…" he began, raising his eyes to hers. "And that level of communication  _does_  flow both ways. So I shall be fully honest with you. When you are punished ordinarily, I make sure to lock the door. Putting you in the cage and setting you within the enchanted dream, was not an easy decision for me, since I knew what you would experience within it. It distracted me and quite frankly, upset me to such a degree that I completely forgot about the door, focusing solely on you to ensure your safety."

Stunned, Sarah sat in silence. This was Jareth. The Goblin King. Anger she could understand from him as a reaction - but this? A faint sense of disquiet and regret filtered through her, feelings she was sure did not belong to her. "Why would you regret that?" she questioned, her words quiet.

"Sarah, aside from our immediate families, Fae do not let anyone close to them, to see their true emotions. You are the first being other than my blood who I not only share my thoughts and feelings with, but who can actually  _feel_ them. To be that open is… unnerving," he replied, running his thumb over her finger, before raising her hand to his lips. "I suppose I feel regret, that you might think less of me for showing such weakness."

Looking at their entwined hands rather than be faced with the disillusionment he was sure was in her eyes, Jareth opened the bond wide. For a long moment it seemed as if the bond was gone. For three months he had constantly been able to feel her emotions on some level, yet in that split second, there was nothing. Until that instant, he had no idea how comforting it had been to constantly feel her coursing through him, as if she were a part of him. His heart clenched tight at the absence, threatening to stop all together until he was blindsided by a sudden burst of love and adoration, so strong it made him gasp and look up. All he saw was a flurry of brunette tresses, glittering green eyes and a mass of brocade velvet as Sarah launched herself toward him. Throwing her arms around Jareth's neck, Sarah captured his lips, swallowing his startled grunt as the force of her body hit him, the sensation of her demanding kiss distracting him from the sound of breaking china that surrounded them.

Sarah moaned into the kiss, when Jareth's arms slid around her, pulling her close. Weaving her fingers through the fine tresses of his hair, she nipped his lips, sliding her tongue along his when his lips parted to meet the passionate kiss. She drank the essence of him as eagerly as if it were the finest champagne, tasting the sweetness that was uniquely Jareth. Panting, she broke the kiss and burrowed into his arms without a word, leaving him marveling at the mercurial woman he would happily have as his mate.

Clearing his throat, Jareth chuckled softly, the sound reverberating deep in his chest, tickling Sarah's ear as she rested her head upon him.

"I take that to mean you do not think less of me?"

"Correct...Master."

Cocking his head so that he might look at her, he smiled at the self-satisfied smirk upon her face. "Master? You would still have me as such?"

"Yes. Because you really do care," she sighed, snuggling in until she could kiss the underside of his jaw, eliciting a throaty growl from Jareth. "You always said punishments hurt you as well. I guess now I finally see it."

Glancing down at the breakfast now scattered upon the floor, like an abstract painting punctuated with rather expensive mosaic pieces, Jareth shook his head. "I rather think perhaps you need more punishing - you've upset the breakfast dishes and caused quite a mess, darling. Just what am I going to do with you, hmm?"

"Spank me?" Sarah glibly replied, then giggled at the sudden feel of surprise rushing from Jareth. It wasn't often that she felt that from him, so she thoroughly enjoyed it when she could make him feel that way.

Jareth shook his head, his lips brushing her temple. "You are going to be incorrigible and insatiable, I can see that now. You are supposed to be resting today, Precious. Not instigating more  _energetic_  play." Hearing her cheeky laugh, he growled softly in her ear. "You have ten minutes to clean up the mess any way that you can. If you do it within that time period, I'll give you that which you so clearly  _need_."

In the end it only took her five.

To his credit, Jareth managed to hide his surprise at just how far her magical ability had come in such a short period of time. In the end, the spanking would have to wait until later, his first responsibility was to Sarah's well-being and that meant breakfast.

_**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~** _

"Can I ask you something?" Sarah asked, picking at the pancakes on her plate, while Jareth devoured his quadruple stack with a sweet-tooth that she was coming to see was legendary, both Underground and Above.

"Of course, Precious," he replied, laying his fork aside and giving her a warm smile. "What is on your mind?"

"Well, I thought pleasure slaves would basically be like...I don't know, ornaments. They sit around nude or in silks all day and wait for their Masters to seek their company, but from what is in this book, that isn't the way it is?"

His quiet smile, made her belly flutter, the heat in her chest spreading upward to her cheeks. All he had to do was smile at her and her body responded in ways she had not yet grown accustomed too.

"If I didn't know better, I might think the truth to that disappointed you, Precious," he teased, his lips curling in wicked grin that made her belly flip and flutter more vigorously within her. "You would be right, however...that is not the way things are for most pleasure slaves. Let's start with the issue of clothing, since it seems to be a recurring curiosity for you," he said, his pale eyes glittering with amusement. "While slaves may wear silks in private, the preferences and wishes of their Master take precedence. For instance, at this moment, it pleases me to know that you are warm and for that matter, I like seeing you in my clothing, so you'd do well to just get used to that," he chuckled. "Slaves  _do not_ spend all of their time in silks or naked, waiting.. or hoping… for use. They dress according to the tasks they are set or the situations in which they find themselves, whether that is in private or holding court in front of 200 of their citizens."

Frowning slightly, Sarah tilted her head as she looked at him, trying to process his explanation. Her train of thought derailed as he flicked the tip of his tongue over a bit of blueberry syrup that was clinging to the corner of his mouth.

"So, they have jobs other than… well… sex?"

' _Such innocent questions, yet she seems eager for answers,'_ he mused, noting the way her eyes were drawn to his lips and her cheeks flushed brightly.  _'Just what are you thinking, darling…?'_

"Yes, they do. Remember, pleasure slaves are the consummate companion. They are valued for their brains and skills outside of the physical. A friend of mine is an unwed King who has had the same pleasure slave for the last century. She acts as his personal secretary. Everyone knows she is his pleasure slave, but outside of his chambers, she holds a great deal of power and respect as the king's chamberlain," Pausing, Jareth's lips pulled in a slight frown, making Sarah shiver and unconsciously attempt to pull her foot back from his lap. At the feel of her trying to retreat, he gave her a reassuring smile, caressing her foot through the blanket. "Not all who have pleasure slaves value them that way. This is why I was so angry with you and Angel turning your hair purple with hexes. Some royalty keep their own harems of pleasure slaves whose only purpose is to serve on their backs. They are locked away in lavish seraliglio's, but only ever see other slaves or their Masters. They are enchanted to remain silent anytime they are outside of the walls of the harem house."

Frowning, Sarah sniffed the air curiously, wondering at the bitter smell until she felt the slow creep of despair through the link.

"That upsets you?" she asked, her hand gently falling upon his arm.

Jareth sighed and looked at the hand resting upon his arm. "Yes, Precious, it does upset me. Thankfully, there are few with a rank high enough to have pleasure slaves who keep harems, but I feel for the women trapped in them. Once collared, they will remain there until their Master chooses to give them to another or they die - they are used for sex until such time that they can no longer perform that duty...then they are put to death. Expendable property."

Scooting closer to him, Sarah nestled against his side, her hand stroking his upon his thigh. His words painted such a horrible picture, she felt her own despair seem to twist around his through the link, a sensation that was almost as unnerving as the explanation he gave.

WIth a sigh, Jareth reached for her hand, twining his fingers with hers and stroking her palm tenderly with his thumb.

"Sarah, should you accept a training collar from me or a full collar as my pleasure slave, you will always retain the power of consent. Each day that you wear my collar, you will make the choice to be mine. You will always have the power to  _choose._  The slaves in a harem no longer have that choice. They are objects, nothing more. It is a horribly lonely existence. So yes, I pity those who have found themselves in a harem. That is why I was so harsh with you and Angel, I do not want either of you to jokingly present yourself as a pleasure slave before the wrong person. Wars have been fought over less, Sarah… were someone to attempt to confine either of you to a seraglio...well… there wouldn't be enough left of their kingdom or family line to bother sowing with lime."

Gulping Sarah looked at him with wide eyes, the intensity of his emotion making her shiver. "I...I get it now, Jareth. I'm sorry. I swear, we won't do it anymore. You don't have to worry about that," she murmured softly, squeezing his hand tight. Biting her lip she pushed warmth through the link and wracked her brain for a way to change his mood. "Is it normal for Queens to be collared as a pleasure slave to their husbands? Do their court and citizens know? If so how does that work?"

Although she had not planned to deliver her questions with gunshot rhythm, it had the effect that she wanted - Jareth laughed. Chuckling, she felt the bitter scent of desolation fade, while the link was filled with amusement and love.

"I might have to limit you to one question at a time, my darling. To begin with, it isn't a matter of being 'normal', as many people keep the intimacies between themselves and their spouses private. Therefore if a Queen were to be collared to her King, it is highly likely no one would know except their close confidants. Were you to seek my collar as my Queen, that is not something I would shout from the rooftops," he teased, winking at her when she blushed. "My family would likely know, as would those servants and staff who worked closely with us or had access to our chambers, but they would be under a discretion order."

Pouring himself more coffee, Jareth smirked. "In fact, your idea of normal doesn't apply at all. For instance, I have another close friend who has no interest in marrying. He has had the same pleasure slave for quite some time. However, in private it is he who wears the collar. Yet another I know of is the pleasure slave of his Queen - he appears to rule the kingdom, but those close to them know that all major decisions are made by her, he merely enacts them. At times, a pleasure slaves serves by being the dominant partner. So you see, relationships, even those with a power exchange component, can take many forms - it is all up to the people involved and what suits their needs."

The sight of Sarah's eyes widening in shock elicited a rumbling laugh from Jareth.

"It seems so complicated," Sarah sighed, shaking her head, while her mind swam with all that he told her.

Kissing the top of her head, Jareth waved his hand and the remains of the breakfast vanished. "Enough deep thoughts for now, darling," he murmured gently, handing her the book once more, while her sketchpad and pencils appears on the coffee table in front of them. "Either nap or rest quietly, love. That  _is_  an order, and one I expect you to obey," he added, tracing his finger along the links at the base of her throat.

The feel of his finger pulling lightly over the silver chain, sent delicious vibrations through Sarah, the sensation setting loose a cascade of goosebumps that ran across her flesh. Smiling up at him, she leaned in and kissed his cheek. It was hard to argue with him when he seemed content to be taking care of her, and for once, she was content to let him. As Jareth picked up his book and began to read quietly to her, Sarah plucked her sketchpad from the table and began to draw.

_**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~** _

After an hour of reading aloud to Sarah, Jareth fell silent in his reading, leaving her to her odd pastime - alternating between reading the book he had given her and sketching. For the last twenty minutes he had stopped reading entirely and sat there surreptitiously watching her as she frowned and flicked her pencil over the paper. Then she would pause, look at what she had done, before viciously rubbing it out of existence with the putty eraser she kept clutched in her off hand. Despite her penchant for disobeying him, Jareth was learning that she was something of a perfectionist in other areas of her life.

_If only she would put that perfectionism to use in her lessons regarding Underground life._

Still watching her out of the corner of his eye, he felt through the link, wondering at the odd sense of frustration and irritation that seemed to be consuming her. A lot growl rumbled in her throat as she scrubbed several lines once more.

"Problem, Precious?"

Sighing, Sarah dropped her pencil onto the coffee table and huffed, glaring angrily at her sketchpad. "I just can't visualize it properly. What do they do with their hands?"

"What do who do?" Jareth asked, finding himself completely flummoxed by her irritation. "May I see?"

Sarah shrugged and thrust the sketchpad at him, her lips pulling downward as her growl deepened. Taking the pad before she could toss it aside, Jareth spun it around and peered at it. The page was covered with four different sketches of the positions of a pleasure slave. The woman's long dark hair fell in waves over her shoulders, just covering her bare breasts. Smiling he noticed that the woman in the picture was wearing a collar with his sigil dangling from it. The tilt of her lips and shape of her nose, was most revealing as to whom Sarah was trying to picture in the poses.  _'Does she realize she has drawn herself as my collared slave?'_  he mused, noting the faint mark on the woman's breast and the matching mark near her hip.

Pursing his lips, Jareth gave an approving nod, before glancing warily at her. "These are quite good, Sarah, but I can see why you would be frustrated with the hands. I suppose the book doesn't describe them as completely as it could."

Folding her arms over her chest, Sarah huffed once more, her irritation seeming to build. Putting the sketchpad on the coffee table, Jareth pushed her feet out of his lap.

"Okay, stand up," he ordered, the suddenness of his demand taking her by surprise and derailing her frustration. Curiosity flooded the link, making him smirk.

"You...what?" she mumbled, blinking owlishly at him.

" Go on. On your feet. You wanted to know what being in training would mean for you, did you not?"

Biting her lip, Sarah nodded, as the first wave of nervousness hit her stomach, making it flutter wildly as her mind whirled with the possibilities for what he had in mind. Despite the nerves making themselves known, she stood before him, balling her fists into the rolled cuffs of his dressing gown.

With heat flooding her cheeks, Sarah's trembling fingers reached for the belt of the dressing gown

Swallowing heavily at the possibilities inherent in the wicked turn of his lips, she nodded again, a sudden bloom of heat taking root within her. His gaze was calm, but intense, as if he were sifting through the whirling thoughts in her mind. Unsure what he meant to do, her eyes fell shut the moment his hand cupped her cheek, caressing her gently. Not thinking about what she was doing, Sarah leaned her face into the touch, a deep, wavering sigh spilling from her lips.

"Without taking you and claiming you fully, your training will consist primarily of learning about Fae culture and such…" he began, only to be cut off when Sarah's expression changed, her emerald eyes snapping angrily.

"Hang on. So slaves learn Fae culture and courtesy and manners and everything too?" she demanded, pushing away from him.

Puzzled, Jareth nodded.  _'And people accuse me of being mercurial. No wonder Mother is so convinced she is my match,'_  he laughed inwardly.

"Yes, of course they do. That is the basis of everything."

Pacing angrily Sarah pointed a finger at him and snapped, "So you've been grooming me all this time to be your...your what... _pleasure slave_?"

Jareth shook his head, amazed at how angry she was. "Of course not, Precious," he said. Seeing her hand raise, he instinctively stepped aside, his own hand snapping out and grabbing her wrist before she could land the slap. " _That_  was a mistake, Sarah," he growled, as she struggled to pull her wrist from his hand.

"Let go of me...you...you...LETCH!"

"That. Is. Enough. GIRL!" he hissed, deftly spinning her around and pinning her to him with her back against his chest, his hands holding her own tight against her stomach. "Now… before you get yourself in any more trouble than you have already bought yourself, I suggest you settle down and listen to me." Sarah squirmed and tried to kick, only managing to make herself breathless in the process. When she finally stopped struggling, he began again. "There is a simple explanation and if you had let me give it, rather than throwing a tantrum, you would see your ire is unwarranted. You are the Labyrinth Champion, a Lady in your own right and have royal status in Underground society. However being raised as a mortal means that you are not ready to fulfill your roles because you have not been raised in our culture to understand how things are done."

"Wait… what…" she muttered, her body hanging in his arms, as her irritation deflated visibly at his words.

Turning her to face him again, Jareth tilted her face upward, chuckling at the sheepish frown that pulled her lips downward.

"Darling, most Fae nobility learn these things as children. Pleasure slaves are taught these things in the training houses because they are generally not of the nobility, so they have not grown up being trained in how to behave amongst the higher classes. Being trained in culture and comportment has little to do with the more intimate duties of a pleasure slave, and everything to do with being the consummate companion, or in your case, a lady in the Fae court….and someday my Queen."

Sarah froze, her gaze falling to his feet, as a cold sensation slid down her back, making her stomach drop. Unmoving she stood there for several moments, before raising her eyes to his, nibbling her lip. "I...um...I'm sorry. I thought you…."

"You assumed I had always had ulterior motives where you were concerned," he finished for her, his tone cool and detached. Sighing, Jareth shook his head, "Sarah, what more can I do to show you I am not the villain you thought me to be?"

Throwing her arms around him, Sarah buried her face in his chest, shaking her head frantically. "I'm sorry, Jareth. I know you aren't the bad guy. I do… I just... it's so much to sort through, y'know? We're bonded. You can read my emotions. Hell, I can read yours sometimes. I want to be with you constantly, but I feel like that has to be wrong because you're older than I am...like WAY older. But for the Fae it's normal...well it doesn't feel normal to me. None of this feels normal. I like it when you spank me, shi….p… I even like the idea of being collared to you. I like being in your bed with your arms around me. But I feel like I shouldn't like any of this and it's just...argghh!" she rambled before falling silent, her arms tight around his ribs.

Jareth smiled softly at the rush of emotions and thoughts that flowed from her. Wrapping his arms warmly around her body, he held her close, kissing the top of his head. "Those are a lot of deep thoughts and worries to keep bottled up in one heart and head, Precious. Rather than keeping them locked inside until they burst out of you like a champagne cork, why don't you try talking to me, hmmm?" Feeling her relax against him, Jareth chuckled quietly. "For starters, let's just toss out the ridiculous notion of 'normal', okay? You are free to like what you like. You are Fae now, or will be. Mortal standards no longer apply to you. You are immortal for all intents and purposes, so the 'age difference' as you see it, is a non-issue. Start there...and let the rest fall into place as it will."

For several minutes, Sarah didn't move, her face still buried against his chest. Jareth could feel the roiling mass of emotions tumbling restlessly through the bond, the tangled threads so knotted he could do little to pick out even one emotion, let alone understand them all. After a time, she settled once more, nodding against his chest. "Ok. I'll try."

"That's my brave Champion," he purred, kissing her forehead. "Now… back to training."

The moment the word 'training' left his lips, Sarah felt her stomach shiver within her, her heart starting to race.

"Really? Even after what I… um…"

"Yes, even after you tried to strike me. We will however, be dealing with that little faux pas tonight during your usual accounting," Jareth chuckled, seeing the way her face fell.

"Couldn't you do that… now? Waiting is cruel," she sighed.

Smiling, Jareth let his fingertips glide over her cheek. "No, Precious. For two reasons. First, knowing that the punishment will happen later means you will think about what you did to earn it. That is an important part of the process. Second, you will never receive any form of 'serious' punishment in my rooms, your rooms or someday…  _our_  rooms. Anything that happens in those rooms is for fun only. Those two things must be separate."

As much as she hated having to wait, knowing that an additional punishment would be granted that evening, Sarah immediately found that the logic of it made perfect sense to her. "I understand."

Jareth dipped his head, his lips lightly teasing over hers in a tender, yet brief, kiss. "For now however, on to more practical matters."

"When it comes to training and the way I like to do things, you will learn my preferences and desires. As a novice and an unclaimed maid, that will primarily be things that are, non-sexual - unless there are more intimate preferences you are curious about, then you are free to ask about them and I will always explain or show you," feeling her tremble in his arms, he stroked the hair that fell down her back. "It's okay to have desires, Sarah. I would prefer that you be honest with me about them. Anything that happens in that area will be at your wish and at your pace, nothing more."

"Thank you," she whispered, the words muffled against the firm planes of Jareth's chest.

Shaking his head at rush of desire, confusion and nervousness that flooded the link, Jareth continued. "Overall, in training the goal is for you to develop an understanding of my preferences and adjust to the way I like things done. So, to give you a taste, I'm going to begin your 'education' now," he murmured, the sound of his voice setting the heated ball inside her to burn until she squirmed where she stood. "We'll start with the basic positions you were sketching, to give you a point of reference. The robe will have to come off however, you need to see your body to position yourself correctly."

Blushing brightly, Sarah's hands fell to the sash of the dressing gown, unsure whether she intended to untie it or hold it shut - not that it mattered, because Jareth intervened. His hands slid down her shoulders to her wrists, gently but firmly pulling her hands from the sash and pressing them to her sides.

"While ever you wear my collar, if you are with me, you will  _never_  undress yourself. You are dressed at my whim and according to my preferences, you will be undressed the same way," he said quietly, all hint of teasing fading from his tone.

Unable to answer, Sarah nodded, the heat in her belly flooding upward through her chest, searing her from the inside out.

"If I do not give instructions or take care of it myself, you may of course ask me if I would like to undress you...or not, should you feel too timid.," he added. His lips brushed her forehead, as his fingers gave a firm tug on the sash of the robe, the knot falling loose immediately. "For today however, and I suspect for quite some time, there will be no need to ask if I should like to undress you - the answer will always be yes."

Turning her to face away from him, Jareth slid the robe from her arms and draped it across the sofa. His hands grazed slowly down her arms, the warmth of them teasing her flesh, while her nipples pulled taut in response to his nearness, accentuated by the fact that the semi-sheer shirt did little to hide her body from view. Reaching her wrists, he twined his hands with hers, pulling her back until her back was flush against his chest. A low purr rumbled deep in his chest, while his lips nuzzled the sensitive spot behind her ear, sending bursts of pleasure down her spine.

"Now then, I wouldn't wish to  _harm_  my slave, would I? And the hardwood floors can be a bit harsh on the knees. What we need, Precious...is a cushion," he chuckled in her ear, relishing the way she trembled in his arms.

Feeling his hand move, Sarah glanced down, fascinated by the way a shimmering blue crystal appeared in his fingertips. For several moments he let it spin and roll around his hand, before dropping it. The iridescent swirls that danced across the glittering shell entranced Sarah, and she watched it slowly float to the floor then burst in a gentle spray of fine droplets that vanished a moment later. In their place lay a large, thick, floor cushion of navy blue velvet. In the center of the cushion were two unicorns, holding a replica of the Goblin King's sigil. She felt Jareth's fingers teasing over the sigil that hung from the collar, marking her as his in a way just as tangible as the mark that was magically seared into her breast.

"Kneel, Precious. Try the first position… simple attention," he instructed her, his voice a soft rumble in her ear. The feel of his lips brushing her ear sent a rush of goosebumps racing down her chest.

Feeling him release her and step back, Sarah's knees wobbled a moment, threatening to drop her onto the sofa, before she gasped and fought to control them. Her eyes fell shut a moment, and she took a deep, shuddering breath before opening them. The sensation of the light purple silk shirt gliding over her bare skin was so much more pronounced without the protection of the heavy robe, making her feel as vulnerable as if she had been fully nude before him. Opening her eyes she turned and knelt on the pillow with her knees together. Her bum was nestled lightly upon her heels. Thinking over the description from the book, she kept her back straight, but relaxed and her chin up, while her eyes were cast downward, looking at Jareth's feet.

Leaning over, Jareth took her hands, turning them palm down upon her thighs. "This is also considered a formal 'at rest' position," he said, then walked around her, humming thoughtfully. "Very nice. Now try the 'present' position."

Nibbling her lower lip, Sarah hesitated a moment, trying to remember the description. She took a deep breath to steady herself, then parted her knees a bit, then clasped her hands behind her back. A heated blush crept across her cheeks and down her chest at the way the position arched her back, the sensitive peaks teasing against the silk of the shirt and pulling taut. Once more Jareth walked around her, observing her form, while Sarah kept her eyes down. After a moment, he squatted down in front of her and pulled her arms from behind her back, turning them so her arms were more relaxed and her hands lay palm up upon her thighs.

"While your form depicted the formal 'present' position accurately, I prefer this variation. It's easter to maintain longer without pain. Just keep your back arched a bit further," he instructed her, then smiled, teasing his finger lightly over one of the taut buds barely hidden by the shirt. "As you can see, different positions have different…'advantages'."

The sudden wave of vanilla, cinnamon and spices that rose around Sarah, told Jareth all he needed to know - just trying the positions was having an effect on her. "Now try the inspection position."

"I...I don't remember that one," Sarah lied, feeling her heart hammer in her chest.

Rising, Jareth chuckled and shook his head, tugging lightly on her hair. "Why Precious…. Do you really think it is a wise idea to lie to me while collared? I can feel the deceit and smell it on you." Jareth laughed softly at the wave of sheepishness that flooded the link, tempered with the scent of shyness. "Darling, why don't you want to do that position?" he asked, sitting on the sofa in front of her. Leaning forward upon his knees, he watched her silently, her eyes still diligently trained on the floor at his feet.

"I...I just…." she stammered, her hands twitching briefly as if she would break her position, before relaxing again.

"How does your current position make you feel, Sarah?"

Sarah fell quiet for several moments. He could feel her deliberation, brief flashes of her thoughts filtering into his own mind. Finally she sighed softly, her body relaxing into the position further.

"The first position felt strange but not bad. This one feels, more vulnerable."

"And the 'inspection' position?" he asked gently.

"I would be...unguarded. Completely on display," she whispered, her voice dropping even softer.

Despite her the sudden burst of anxiety, Jareth smiled at the way she did not break her position, instead seeming to subconsciously relax into it. "I'll position you this time, Sarah," he replied. Leaning forward, he pressed his hands upon her knees, pushing them wide. The scents around her changed, arousal warring with nervousness and fear. "Why are you afraid, Precious. You know I will not hurt you or force you to do anything you do not sincerely want to do or try."

Sarah shrugged, her heart thundering in her ears, as he took her hands and moved them until they were locked behind her neck, the position forcing her to arch her back further, as if presenting her breasts to him. Sitting back on the sofa, Jareth watched her, nodding quietly. "This position of all of them, is designed to allow the slave's body to be fully visible to their Master."

"It makes me feel… 'less than'... vulnerable and unprotected," she muttered miserably. "Just… a slave...and I...don't know that I like it. I do and I don't… what's wrong with me?!"

In an instant, Jareth was on a knee in front of her, his fingers caressing her throat and the silver links. "Sarah, hear me now… with or without the collar, you are protected when you are with me. I will not hurt you. Yes, this position will make you feel vulnerable, it puts every part of you on display. And yes, for full pleasure slaves, this position would only be used in private and the slave would be nude - so it  _is_  a vulnerable position. But would you like to know what I see when I look at you in these positions?"

Sarah's throat clicked in her ears as she whispered, "Yes...Sir."

"I do not see a slave, Sarah. I see a beautiful, intelligent woman who trusts me enough to give me herself in such a way. I see someone who needs me to be my best in order to protect and care for her."

Blinking, Sarah's gaze shifted slowly from the floor to Jareth's face, while the rest of her held the position. "You… you do?"

"Yes, Precious. This is what I've been trying to help you understand, the power exchange goes both ways, each person benefits, but not in the ways that people expect," he replied, caressing her cheek, as his lips tenderly brushed her forehead in a kiss. "You are beautiful like this, but… you are always beautiful to me. This sort of power exchange is not about a person as 'property' or being 'less than' it is about trust. It is about trusting another enough to let your true, authentic self and all the needs associated with it, shine. It is trusting them enough with your emotions and body, that you will hand yourself over to them to fulfill your desires, and their own, in ways that are mutually beneficial."

Settling into his corner of the sofa again, Jareth left her in the position a moment longer, then smiled as her emotions settled - slowly the fear and nervousness faded, while arousal and contentment began to grow, tempered with a warming thread of pride.

"Drag the cushion over here, Sarah," he instructed her, pointing at the spot to the left of his legs.

Curious, she pulled the cushion over, then knelt awkwardly on it, shifting from the general position to present and back again. Amused at her indecision, Jareth stroked her head, the gesture making her pause and look up t him, once more pinching her lip with her teeth. "For now, just relax. Sit however is comfortable, but I want you here...where I can touch you at my whim," he murmured gently, then handed her the sketch pad once more. "I think you have what you need now to correct the drawings."

Nodding she took up her pencil and set to work, while Jareth opened his laptop and began to go through work messages. As she drew, Sarah mulled over all of the things she had learned. It was nearly an hour later that she realized she was still sitting there, barely dressed in the purple, semi-sheer silks, and felt perfectly comfortable being curled up on the cushion at Jareth's feet - it was all so strange, but felt so right.

For nearly an hour, Jareth answered emails and stroked Sarah's head. Glancing down, he beamed at the way she had scooted closer to his leg and was now leaning against it as she drew, her head leaning against his knee. Opening up another file to review numbers, he was surprised when Sarah spoke, her words soft and hesitant.

"Have you had them before?"

"Had what, Precious?" he asked, his sculpted eyebrows narrowing at the wave of disquiet and despair that had crept through the link from Sarah.

"A pleasure slave...Have you had them before?"

Looking at her over the top of his laptop, Jareth's eyes flickered golden as he studied her face. The scents around her shifted, contentment layered with indecision, and dismay.  _'Maybe he'll lie to me...I'm not sure I really want to know.'_  Hearing her fearful words echoing in his head, Jareth gave her a gentle smile, nudging a stream of reassurance through the link.

"I will always be honest with you, Precious. Yes, I have had pleasure slaves before. Princes, Princesses and other nobility often take a pleasure slave as a companion when they are young. For those of royal blood, they do so before assuming the crown and many keep the same pleasure slave until they are ready to begin courting with a view toward marriage," he said, his words quiet, as his fingers combed through the dark tresses draped over his thigh. "I have been involved with trained slaves, as well as seeing to the training of complete novices."

"Oh," Sarah mumbled, her face falling, as her attention returned to her sketchpad, her eyes glassy with the first hints of tears.

Caressing her cheek, Jareth spoke softly, "Sarah...love...look at me." With a despondent sniff she looked up at him through the veil of dark hair. "I have had pleasure slaves as companions, that is just the way things are done for my kind. But I have only loved one person in all my years - and that person is you. I have no intention of taking another to my bed - ever."

"Forever is a long time," she muttered miserably.

"Not long enough with you, Precious."

"Thank you...that...helps," Sarah whispered, her words so soft a human would not have heard them - but the Goblin King did. She did not look up, nor did her pencil move across the page - silent as stone she sat leaning against his leg her pencil tip barely touching the page as she stared vacantly at it.

Closing his laptop, Jareth pushed it aside and leaned over her. Without a word he plucked the pencil from her fingers and flipped the cover of the sketchbook shut, then lay them on top of his computer.

"Um..what are you doing?" she started, only to fall silent when he placed a gentle finger against her lips.

"Your mood has shifted, Precious. You need more rest," he replied, rising and offering her his hand.

"But...I'm not tired."

Arching an eyebrow, Jareth shook his head, a dark chuckle purring in his chest, "Do I have to make it an order, Sarah?"

Her lips still pulling in a petulant line, Sarah sniffed and stood, her arms folded over her chest. "No...Master."

Laughing now, Jareth swatted her bum, the surprise of it making her giggle in spite of herself..

"Bed. Now. Scoot, girl," Jareth ordered, swatting her again when she didn't move with enough speed enough to suit him.

Puzzled, she scurried into the bedroom, staying just far enough ahead of him to avoid being swatted again. Pulling back the covers to get under them, she felt a gentle hand fall upon hers, stopping her. Sarah looked up at him, questioning in her green eyes. "But you said…."

Slowly Jareth pulled her back, until her back was tucked against his chest and her head nestled just near his chin. The thin silk did nothing to dull the heat of him that surrounded her. Jareth's fingertips grazed lightly down her arms, teasing her through the silk.

"As my pleasure slave, you would only be allowed in  _our_  bed if you are nude, save for your collar...unless there were other circumstances at play that necessitated some form of loungewear," Jareth murmured in her ear. Feeling Sarah tremble against him, he slid his arms around her, his hands splayed low across her stomach, two fingers barely touching the dark curls barely hidden by the thin material. Hearing her soft sigh of longing, he allowed one finger to lightly stroke the curls. "Should you choose to keep this collar for now, whether to come to my bed nude will be your decision. However since you are not allowed to undress yourself, you will have to ask me to bare you."

A low moan vibrated in her throat, as she fought to quell it, and failed… the sound of longing sliding past her traitorous lips.

"Now tell me, Precious. For this particular moment, do you wish to remain clothed in the silks of a training slave, or shall I strip you bare?" he murmured in her ear.

The heat of his body and breath upon her flesh made enflamed the ball of heat that always seemed to burn within her when Jareth was touching her. Sarah gulped, struggling to think of anything, but the feel of his body molding to her back, his hips tight enough against her bum and lower back to giving her a feel for just what he hid beneath his sinfully tight trousers.

Burying his nose in her hair, Jareth growled quietly, letting the luscious scents that surrounded her wash over him - arousal and nervousness being the strongest, rich, spicy and faintly sweet. He could feel the war raging within her, her practical side fighting against the more primal desires she harbored, desires she wanted him to quench, even though the idea terrified her. As much as he wanted to have her in his bed, bared for his eyes and touch, the decision rested with her.

Sarah's eyes fluttered shut, the steady beating of his heart against her back being the only thing keeping her grounded. She wanted so much to take the leap and be his, even in a limited form, but the fear still gnawed at her. Shaking her head, Sarah clenched her hands tighter in Jareth's and took a deep, bracing breath.

"Please undress me, Master."

Releasing her hands, his fingers twisted in the hem of the thin material and slowly pulled the shirt upward over her head, then dropped it on top of his robe. "Get in the bed, Precious," he ordered her quietly. She immediately complied, her eyes wide and innocent as he tucked the covers around her, then bent and kissed her, his lips light and tender upon hers. "Now sleep, girl. I will join you shortly, I have a few tasks to attend to first."

The way her lips curled in a disappointed pout was oddly endearing, but unlikely to sway him. Nibbling her lower lip, he chuckled then stood. "No pouting. We can play later if you ask nicely, Darling," he said with a wink. "But nothing until after dinner tonight. We are having guests and I want you rested and ready to be charming for dinner and your oral report - otherwise we are likely to be faced with more visits from my mother, and I don't know about you, but I really would not like a repeat of her last visit."

"Fu….Forget that," she giggled, covering up her slip while Jareth rolled his eyes. Still snickering, Sarah rolled over and pulled Jareth's pillow from the stack at the head of the bed, wrapping her arms around it and hugging it close, her eyes falling shut. Within minutes, despite being sure she wasn't tired, she had fallen fast asleep.

* * *

As always...please review :)

 


	34. Decisions Made

"Stop squirming Sarah and you won't drop the cupcakes. Surely you don't want to lose another bit of your funishment for later?" Jareth laughed, balancing another pink cupcake on the plate. The fine china plate wobbled, making the pink peonies seem to dance around the edges, while Sarah squeaked in alarm, her hands flinching as if wanting to grab the plate, before slowly relaxing once more.

"Jareth! I can't…" she mumbled through teeth clenched - not out of anger, but out of necessity, since to speak normally would surely upend the plate of teacakes precariously balanced on top of her head.

"Shush, darling. Tea cake tables shouldn't talk," he teased, pulling another teacake from thin air and adding it to the neat circle of cakes he had made on the plate. "You've made it to a second level this time. That's 20 swats you've lost for being a naughty table and spilling them, and another 10 you've added back again. A muffled whine was the only reply from Sarah as she knelt on Jareth's bed, still naked, her body held in the' present' position he preferred. "Keep your hands palm up Sara and locked to your knees. No trying to steady the plate again or we'll have to start  _all_  over and you'll be 30 swats in the negative."

Jareth hadn't planned to do much training with her until she made a decision about accepting the training collar, but as it turned out, she responded well to his methods.

When Sarah woke from her nap, to find him sitting next to her reading she had been perfectly content and relaxed, reaching over and petting his thigh with a lazy purr - until she discovered that the covers had twisted low around her hips as she slept, leaving her breasts exposed. In an instant she grabbed for them, but he stopped her, holding the covers down firmly.

"Sarah...relax."

Relaxation did not seem likely, given the way her face and chest flushed bright pink. Jareth offered to strip down himself to even the score, as nudity was nothing for his kind. Then he mistakenly explained that there were some formal parties when it was quite expected - a fact that made her blush crimson, and offered Jareth a delightful view of just how much of her body could turn a lovely shade of pink. As it turned out, he was reasonably sure the only part of her that  _wouldn't_ blush was the soles of her feet.

When that only made her embarrassment grow, he'd tried to explain that nudity was natural and not inherently sexual. When that didn't assuage her shame, he explained that he hadn't even been looking at her, as he had been reading and was only sitting there because he wanted to be near if she needed him. That didn't seem to affect her either. The only thing that started to calm her down was to remind her that nudity was a rule for pleasure slaves. He was pleasantly surprised when her hand came up to caress the collar, and her emotions quieted a bit. The bitter-sweet scent of embarrassment faded somewhat, overtaken with the vanilla and exotic spices of desire. As much as he approved of that response, he wanted her to understand that in the context of their relationship, she needed to feel comfortable being bared before him.

So he did the only thing he could think of to snap her out of being shy about her body around him - he made a game out of it.

They had been playing the 'game' for the last 40 minutes, at the moment however, Sarah was losing more than winning. Despite having a negative score, her mood was surprisingly light and happy. As an added bonus she was becoming far more comfortable taking instruction from him, as well as being in the positions she had tried earlier in the day, and simply being nude in his presence - all of which counted as a win by Jareth's standards.

For her part, Sarah was torn between trying to keep the teacakes balanced and giving into the other torments Jareth inflicted upon her. She knew he was devious, but this only further proved it...and she found she didn't mind so much. The first time she'd gotten up to 12 teacakes, he praised her, his eyes flickering darkly as he gave her a wicked smile - Then he told her the secret rule - she had to keep the plate balanced and could not, for any reason, break position. Once he placed the thirteenth cake upon the plate, he'd reached down and lightly pinched her nipple. The sensation of magic in his touch sent a jolt of hunger straight to core, setting up an aching hunger within her. This made her squirm and then… CRASH! The delicate plate shattered on the floor, and teacakes scattered across the carpet and the bed, leaving smears of purple and pink icing on the bedspread.

The second time he'd gotten up to 10 teacakes before pulling out the special rule. She lost that time when he came up behind her and starting kissing and nibbling along her spine. "You like it when I tease you don't you Precious?" he purred in her ear. "I'm going to touch _all_ of you in this game… say 'No' now if you don't want me to touch you, Precious."

The plate started to wobble as her posture relaxed, but Sarah managed to keep it on her head. Her mind whirled with the implications of his words, but in the heat of the moment, she she didn't care. She was having fun with him and his silly game that seemed to involve two of his favourite things, teasing her and his sweet tooth. Locking her jaws tight, she said nothing, even as he purred in her ear and teased his fingertips over her nipple again, eliciting a strained moan from her.

"My greedy mate  _wants_  me to touch her, doesn't she?" he cooed in her other ear now, the low sound of his voice making her hips twitch, as a thick drip slid out of her, coating the throbbing pink petals that clung to the hidden pearl.

When he began the game she was embarrassed and thought it was silly, now she just wanted him to stop with the game and simply touch her - not that she'd ever tell him that. It wasn't until he pinched both nipples gently, but firmly that she gasped, her mouth wide as her back arched, sending the plate flying backward to hit him in the chest.

Which was how Jareth ended up shirtless.

"Naughty naughty, Sarah. You lose again  _and_  you've smeared icing on my favourite shirt," he purred as he took it off and tossed it aside. "You'll have to pay a penalty for that later."

Sarah's stomach fluttered wildly, wondering what he meant. Catching his eye in the dresser mirror, she saw the sly smile curling his lips and watched as his hands slid up her body and cupped her breasts, kneading them gently and pinching her nipples. Arching her back, she moaned, the feeling of his hands sending electric tingles flowing over her body. In the mirror she was entranced by both the sheer sensual intensity of his gaze, and the wide-eyed desire in her own.

His lips brushed her ear, teasing with each word he spoke, "But don't worry Precious… this game is fun, so any 'penalty' you pay will be in a similar vein."

It wasn't until the third round when he'd just barely ghosted a finger over her clit, that he ended up with pink icing smeared down his chest, from the teacakes that fell off the plate when her knees wobbled. Glancing at him now as he placed another teacake on the plate, Sarah groaned, fighting down images of what it would be like to be bold enough to lick the icing from his chest - she was close enough to do it too, if she only arched a bit forward...just a teeny bit.

Jareth hummed quietly, carefully balancing another teacake on the plate. "That's 12. Good girl. I think I'll give you two swats each for this plate of cakes. Which gets you back up in the red with 8 swats. Now be sure to hold still, you don't want to miss out on your spanking again, do you, darling?"

Whimpering now, as his finger pressed deeper to stroke the tender bud, Sarah whispered, "No...Master."

"Now, if you can hold fourteen teacakes without dropping them, I'll give you 30 fun swats tonight and a special reward this afternoon," he purred, plucking another cake from the air and delicately sitting it atop the first layer of teacakes. "There's thirteen," he murmured, kissing her and swallowing her longing moan, as his finger swirled easily around the slick pearl. "Such a good girl holding still for me."

Trembling, Sarah fought her screaming muscles which demanded that she respond to his touch, as more honeyed drips flowed from within her. She didn't know what the reward would be, but if it was anything like what he was currently doing, she knew she wanted it - badly.

"Last cake Precious," he drawled, holding the teacake before her face, so she could see the sparkling pink icing and delicate lavender and vanilla scented cake. Smirking, he flicked his tongue over the icing, her eyes riveted as he sucked it back into his mouth, then kissed her, letting her taste the sweetness of the icing and the spiciness that was uniquely Jareth.

"Do you want to know what you win if you can balance all fourteen cakes for the next three minutes?"

Sarah moaned, the sound rumbling deep in her chest. "Yes….S-Sir…" she panted through gritted teeth. The muscles in her legs twitched with the desire to slam her thighs shut and clamp down around his fingers.

"I'm going to lay you down, and feast upon this lovely, dripping pussy until you scream my name," he whispered in her ear, the heat of his breath and the feel of his finger tenderly stroking her clit, threatening to short-circuit her brain.

"Please…." she gasped, even as she cursed her traitorous lips.

Jareth purred, feeling a sudden rush of wetness coat his fingers. "Ahh… so you really  _do_  want to play with me today, hmm? Well, since you have been an exceptionally good girl, I'll give you what you need - if….and only if… you hold all fourteen teacakes for three minutes without breaking position or dropping the plate." Pausing the tender stroking of his fingers against her clit, Jareth held her gaze as he placed the last teacake on the stack perched on the plate.

Green eyes glittered brightly at him, while Sarah bit her lower lip. He could see the strain in her body as she fought to remain still. His touch was light when he began to stroke the slippery bud again, gently running around it, just enough to send warm bursts of pleasure up into her core.

"We will have all of forever to play games like this, Sarah," he murmured, his gaze still riveted upon her face, the blue of his eyes darkening in their intensity. "You'll find I can be  _very_  creative. You will never be bored, love."

Her hips pressed toward his teasing fingers, as a heated groan of longing hung in the air between them. Snapping her eyes shut tight, Sarah whimpered. Everything in her screamed to throw her arms around him and ride his fingers until she came apart for him, yet somehow she found the strength to resist.

Steadily the clock on the nightstand ticked down the time - with Jareth's eyes on Sarah and her eyes on the clock. 10...9...8...7...6...5...4...3….

The sound of firm knocking on Jareth's door, drew her eyes to him in a panic.

"Jar…" she gasped, the movement of her head over-balancing the plate on her head. Cringing she waited for the plate to fall, as Jareth growled and waved a hand, halting the descent of the plate and cupcakes so they hung in the air in mid-tumble.

"If that is my mother…." he snarled, just as the parlor door opened and Titania called out.

"Jareth… Sarah? Sorry to bother you darlings, but the others are arriving for dinner and the girl's oral report. You should come down and greet them."

The sound of Jareth's fingers snapping echoed loudly in Sarah's ears, startling her almost as much as the way she was suddenly swathed in his dressing gown once more, and the plate, teacakes and all traces of icing were gone from Jareth's chest.

"No fair," she harrumphed, crossing her arms irritably over her chest as she flopped onto her bum on the bed and glared at the bedroom door.

"Indeed, Precious. It is  _not_ fair," Jareth grumbled with her, and strode toward the door. Jerking it open he frowned at seeing his mother flitting into the parlor. Titania beamed warmly when she saw him. "Mother, we were resting, as instructed. Dinner is not for another two hours."

Waving a hand at him, Titania peered around him, smiling at the sight of Sarah bundled in his robe asleep on his bed. "Oh good, I'm glad you finally took my advice, dear. Well, you can let her sleep a bit longer while you get ready, but you really should be down to greet your guests, since you did invite them to hear the report."

Jareth rolled his eyes and huffed. Leaning against the doorway, he glanced over his shoulder at Sarah pretending to be asleep. "They are family, mother. I do not see the need to stand on ceremony in my own home."

"Don't be stubborn, Jareth!" Titania scolded, her voice dropping lower so as not to wake Sarah. "This is her first time to meet more of the family. You want her to be comfortable to give her report in front of them, do you not?"

Grudgingly he nodded, running a hand through his hair until it stood wildly about his head, the short strands giving a brief hint of the true Goblin King. "Yes, you are correct. I would rather that she not be overly nervous about the report, since it is already a rather sensitive subject for her."

Patting his arm, Titania smiled. "Wake her and prepare her for tonight. I will speak with the others and ensure they are on their best behaviour."

Jareth snorted and kissed his mother's forehead, "You and I both know that none of them will be on their best behaviour when meeting Sarah. I've been fending them off for the last three months. They will tell her all the worst stories of my youth and basically be just as incorrigible as Alais."

"Well, we can hope they won't smother the poor girl too much. Just keep her with you and I'm sure she'll handle it fine, Jareth. Whether you realize it or not, she responds to your presence."

Peering at the bed, Jareth chuckled softly, a gnawing heat curling in his groin, "Believe me mother, I am fully aware of just how well she is responding to me these days. Now if you would kindly take your leave, I have to get ready."

When his mother finally left, Jareth returned to the bedroom and sat next to Sarah. "You can stop playing at being asleep now, Precious - although it was a nice touch," he laughed, stroking her head as she pulled the covers down from her face, then abruptly sat up her face pinching in a frown, while her eyes snapped angrily, narrowing upon him.

"Jareth!" she hissed, waggling a finger at him. "I want to take the training collar and continue to spend my nights with you, but you have  _got_  to do something about your mother waltzing through the door whenever she bloody well feels like it!"

A laugh burst from him, as Jareth reached out, gently clasping her hand and bringing it to his lips, to kiss the finger she had been pointing at him, while a surge of warmth rushed through him at her words. "Do you mean it? Have you made your decision about the collar, Sarah?"

Pausing, Sarah blinked in confusion before realizing what she had admitted to him in her anger. Instantly, her mouth went dry and she swallowed hard, trying to make her voice work. Her heart thundered wildly in her chest as the full realization that she meant her words hit her.

"I...um...well...yes?" she muttered, then frowned again. "But only if you can keep your family  _out_  of this room."

"Darling, if I have to post a horde of goblins secreted outside the door to keep them out when you are in here with me, I will. Enchantments. Wards. Goblins. Traps. A dragon...whatever it takes," he murmured, his hand warm as it cupped her cheek.

Leaning in, Jareth captured her lips in a kiss that immediately pulled the breath from her lungs with the heat of it. Her fingers threaded through his hair, twisting into the fine strands and pulling him close. With a soft growl he broke the kiss, resting his forehead against hers, as she giggled quietly, kissing the tip of his nose.

"I think traps, the horde and a dragon might be a tad excessive, although Toby would likely find them thrilling. Couldn't you… I don't know, just tell them that having them barge in embarasses me?"

Smiling, Jareth kissed her forehead then sat back, his fingers gliding over the links of the collar around her neck. "We'll speak to them together, love… that is how the Goblin King and Queen should deal with it. We'll do it tonight, after dinner and your report. For now however, we must get ready to join the family in the parlor. I want you to go shower. Use my special soap in the red container. While you bathe, I'll check on some things in the kingdom and select your clothing for tonight."

Sarah sighed and snuggled into his arms, a slow wave of contentment and love humming through the link. Still unable to believe how much she really did care about him, Jareth hugged her close, kissing the top of her head and drinking in the warm emotions she was pushing through the bond, the mark on his wrist pulsing in time with her heartbeat. He hated forcing her from his arms, but it was necessary.

"Go on, love. We both have things to do."

Leaning her head up Sarah kissed his jaw and smiled. "Yes...Master," she whispered, then stood in front of him. "Would you care to take off the robe?"

Jareth's eyes sparkled wickedly, as he tugged on the sash of the dressing gown. The heavy front fell open, baring her lightly tanned flesh. His hands curled around her hips, pulling her closer, to stand between his knees. Slowly he drew his gaze upward, taking in the tight pink buds and the way her pulse raced in the base of her throat, thrumming against the collar - his collar, that she had willingingly accepted.

"We will finish what I promised you later. You will get your reward, and your 'funishment' for breaking dishes and covering my shirt in icing," he chuckled, a warm smile breaking across his face, as a sheepish grin broke across hers. "But that will happen after our usual accounting in the library. Remember, you shall have cane strokes for last bit of cursing I hope to ever have to punish you for - 5 every evening this week. And you shall have another two for attempting to strike me in anger today. You do understand that to attempt to strike your king… or master, can't be ignored, love," he asked, his words quiet but firm.

He could see her gulp nervously, a sense of pride flooding him as she did not protest, but merely nodded and whispered, "Yes, Jareth. I'm sorry."

His fingers caressed her hips gently, measuring her response before speaking once more. "Hear me now, love...being obedient doesn't mean you have to become some shell of a woman. I love your fire and your passion, you just have to learn to channel it in more...acceptable ways. We will still argue. Hell, we'll still fight as all couples should. Don't ever stop being  _you_ , Sarah. Now that you have accepted my collar for training, your training will begin fully tonight."

Tugging lightly on the front of the collar, he smiled, "With this, comes a change in some rules and how we do things when we are alone. I will teach those things to you bit by bit so as not to overwhelm you with too many new protocols at once. For a start, the protocols concerning punishment will change. When we arrive in my study this evening and are finally alone, you will find your cushion next to my chair. You will kneel there and wait for me to sit, then you will ask me for your punishment. There will be no records made in your book from now on. While ever you wear my collar, any punishment levied is done between us as a private matter - of mates who have made the choice to trust each other. From this moment on, you will ask for any punishment you know you have earned, that honesty is a show of trust and obedience. In asking, you signal that you not only understand what was done and why it warrants punishment, but to show your desire to be mine and your willingness to obey."

Jareth rose, his hand caressing her cheek, while flooding the bond with love. Gently he kissed her, his words soft. "And you do want to be mine and give me your trust, knowing all that I can and will give you in return, don't you Precious?"

A shiver raced down her spine, as Sarah nodded. "Yes, Jareth… I will try. It's all I am ready to offer," she whispered.

Smiling Jareth pressed a tender kiss to her forehead, while his hands pushed the robe down her arms, letting it drop to the floor and baring her entirely. "And that is more than enough, love… Now, go shower."

Without a word, Sarah turned and headed into the bathroom. Jareth watched her walk away, the lack of clothing doing nothing to change the innocence that still remained - a woman touched only by himself, and if he had anything to say about it, she would only ever know _his_  touch. As much as he wanted her fully, and waited for the day she would give in, a part of him felt regret knowing that someday, soon if her willingness to be touched was any indication, he would remove that last physical representation of innocence.

While he could turn back the clock to that moment any number of times, he could never give that innocence back, it was this knowledge that troubled him. He had trained novice pleasure slaves and had enjoyed many lovers in the past, but in all his years, he had never been with someone who was as inexperienced as Sarah. For the Fae, virginity was not a prized thing - experience was treasured, virginity was not. Many Fae had their first sexual experiences younger than Sarah, often with courtesans who were specifically charged with teaching them how to give and receive pleasure. Yet, while Sarah was rapidly transforming to her Fae form physically, emotionally she was still very much human and had been raised to think of her innocence as a prize, to be given only to someone who deserved to share that last moment which marked the true end of all youth for a human.

"Ancestors...please...let me be worthy of her trust...let me be worthy of her love," he murmured softly, his pale eyes falling to the twisted silver crown that now lay in his hands, a feminine counterpart to his own.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Stepping under the steaming spray of the shower, Sarah purred as the water washed over her. Tucked in in the marble recess, she opened the red bottle jar mentioned and breathed deep, unable to hold back her smile - the soap inside smelled exactly like Jareth. Scooping some of the soap out of the jar, she lathered it into her skin, drinking in the exotic spices. She had always thought of this smell as his natural scent, it was layered upon his clothing and his skin, so that it was always around him.

Sarah smirked as she slipped back under the spray, letting it wash the soap away. "I suppose having me bathed in his scent is just another way to mark me as his," she giggled, her eyes drawn to the way the golden soap bubbles seemed to shimmer and change to orange before washing away down the drain.

Looking through the other containers, she found a shampoo bottle with the same scent and poured a generous bit into her hand. "In for a penny and all that…" she hummed, leaning back under the spray. Sarah shut her eyes, and began to lather the thick cream through her hair, the spices and exotic aroma seeming to pour into her until it suffused every cell, soaking into her very soul.

It had been such a strange sort of day - relaxing….but strange.

While she was still very unsure about how she got to this point and what it meant for her future, the more time she spent with Jareth, exploring the intricate variations of Fae intimate relationships, the more sure Sarah became that accepting the bond was only going to be the first step. There would always be someplace new and exhilarating he could take her. She was, by the standards of his kind at least, innocent. It would so easy to feel outclassed and outgunned by the gorgeous Fae women he had to have known of the years, but when they were together, Jareth never treated her as if she were less desireable, if anything, she got the distinct impression that there was no place he would rather be than with her.

"Is that the bond doing it, or how he really feels," she wondered as she slathered her hair up with the thick conditioner. Finding a bottle of shower oil, she started to rub it into her skin with the sea sponge. Her thoughts still mulling over everything that had transpired.

Sure, when she screwed up and broke the rules she knew infuriated him, he treated her like a child, but if she was honest with herself, she understood why.  _If you act like a child you get treated like one...act like an adult and get treated like one as well._ It made sense. When she acted like a child he treated her like a naughty child, she was half surprised he hadn't put her over his knee or stuck her in a corner. Idly staring out the ornate stained glass window of the shower that looked out over the garden, Sarah giggled to herself, remembering just how her body and Jareth's had reacted the one time he had put her over his knee.  _Hmm… yes...that would be why he doesn't do that. We both like it too much._

Even when she was in trouble, the dynamic still clicked in some strange way. She first felt it when she had gotten in trouble over the whole Halloween disaster, although she didn't understand the feeling then. She had been angry at being in trouble, but more than anything it was Jareth's disappointment that tore at her, eating holes in her soul each time he gave her that desolate look.

Punishment aside though, when they were alone, his focus was on her - solely on her. No matter what she asked, he gave her the answers she sought and never made her feel stupid for asking in the first place. If anything he seemed to go out of his way to reassure her that he wanted her to ask questions. As each day passed, she found that she preferred being with Jareth than being anywhere else. Being with him was intoxicating. She never believed that she would ever come to want his control, yet in the past 24 hours she had willingingly surrendered control to him in a myriad of small ways, only to find that giving him that power over her felt comfortable.

The hardest part of the past 24 hours had not been wrapping her head around the complexities of what training or a collar might mean for herself and their relationship...no the hardest part was getting used to being nude or next-to-nude around him. She almost expected him to be frustrated, but like everything else, he took her fear seriously and gently worked to help her deal with it- and it was getting easier.

Realizing she was on the precipice of something huge, Sarah's fingers fell to the reassuring weight of the slick links around her throat. True, the sheer depth and detail of the information Jareth had given her over the course of the day had been quite complex to take on board, but overall, the idea of accepting his training collar was thrilling, more so than frightening.

What  _was_  frightening was the fact that each time he touched her, her resolve to wait when it came to sex, was weakening.

 _He said he would not accept my offer if it was in conjunction with his collar… but what if that is exactly what I want? If the choice is truly mine, shouldn't I have the right to say how I want it to happen?_  Lips pursed in thought, Sarah mulled over her dilemma.  _I know what I want...I think. But how do I make him understand that I want it and know what it would mean?_

A sly glint lit her green eyes as she turned off the shower, the beginnings of a plan starting to form in her mind. She needed to learn a few things first, but soon...very soon...she would make him an offer she was sure he would not refuse.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

Stepping back into the bedroom, Sarah felt a pang of disappointment to find the room empty. The curtains were open across the balcony doors, letting the warm colors of sunset filter into the room. With a sigh she tugged the towel tight around her body and went to check out the clothing Jareth had left laid out on the bed. Running her fingers over the burgundy knit dress, she smiled. It was new, but her favourite color. The whole dress was patterned with a retro feel, a knit sheath, with a high cowled neckline that would hide her collar. Around the waist, fit a simple golden chain belt. Next to the dress lay a delicate bra that she did not recognize from her closet, the material a light, cream-colored silk with embroidered burgundy roses dotted across it.

"Color coordination is important to him," she murmured, then gasped as a warm arm slid around her waist, while lips teased lightly across the back of her shoulder, nibbling in a way that sent a cascade of goosebumps dancing across her back.

"Yes, I do believe in coordination," Jareth purred in her ear, his hand splayed low near her hip, in a way that made her stomach flutter.

Still running her fingertips over the dress, Sarah chuckled, "So I see. I suppose there are perks to being involved with the Goblin King - new clothes on tap."

Laughing, Jareth released her and moved around to lounge against the headboard as he sat on the bed. "Indeed. I did actually have this made to take you to dinner next week in London, but thought it would look lovely tonight."

Sarah arched an eyebrow, tilting her head to look at him. "I see...and I can't help but notice that a particularly important part of the lingerie is missing."

"Oh?" he replied, a sly smirk curling his lips. His pale eyes darkened playfully as he looked at her with great interest. "And what would that be, Precious?"

Picking up the bra, Sarah let it dangle from her fingertip. "Lingerie  _sets_  come in pairs, with a bra _and_  knickers. The knickers that match this quite lovely bra are conspicuously missing."

The wicked twinkle in his eyes, sent liquid warmth rushing down her spine, to coil low in her belly. Deep down, she suspected she knew the answer, and he didn't disappoint.

"You have accepted the training collar, Sarah. As part of that, it is at my whim to dress you… or not. I have laid out what I want you to wear," he replied, waving his hand toward the outfit on the bed.

Glancing at the bed, Sarah noted that the outfit was complete from jewelry to shoes - all parts accounted for, except for the knickers. "But...um…"

"Let me help you," he chuckled, plucking the bra from her hands and rising. Before she could protest, Jareth untucked the damp towel from around her chest and dropped it on the nightstand, leaving her bare. For an instant her arm twitched as if to cover herself, then fell to her side. "Good girl," he murmured, kissing her forehead. "Lift your arms, love," he instructed her, holding up the bra. Without thinking about it Sarah lifted her arms and slid them through the straps, only to find herself being spun around as he deftly fastened it across her back, his touch light on the straps, adjusting them perfectly. "Hmm… very lovely, Precious. Now the dress."

With her back still to him, Jareth reached around her and picked up the dress, his fingers quickly unzipping it. Balancing on one foot, she lightly grasped his shoulder and stepped into the ring of material he held open for her.

"This feels so weird having you dress me. I could do it myself, you know."

"You could," Jareth chuckled, smoothing the dress up her body and turning her to zip it. "But for the moment, it pleases me to dress you, Sarah. I find that I enjoy taking care of you in this way...and others."

Feeling awkward, as he sat on the bed in front of her and slipped the shoes on her feet, Sarah tried not to focus on the way each movement caused the air to sweep up under the skirt of the dress, teasing around her thighs and across the still damp flesh of her sex. "Jareth, please…. Can I have the knickers? I'll never be able to focus on anything except my… well…." she began, her cheeks flushing brightly at the devious smirk upon his face.

"That is rather the point to the exercise, Sarah mine," he grinned, threading the belt around her waist and fastening it. "Pleasure slaves, while accomplished companions, are primarily there to serve their Master's lusts and sexual needs, therefore their silks are designed for access, but also to make them keenly aware of their own needs and desires, stoking the fires so to speak. Our activities this evening do not lend themselves to silks, so you must be clothed, but I still want you to be aware of your own needs and desires... So consider this an exercise in learning to accept that your desires are natural, Sarah," he said gently.

Feeling her stomach quiver, Sarah fought the urge to tug at the skirt of the dress, the feel of air swirling up between her thighs unnerving. "Will I have to go knickerless all the time?" she asked, vaguely horrified, by the idea, although the heavy warmth settling between her thighs suggested an all-together less objectionable feeling.

Jareth laughed and rose, turning her around, his hands threading into the damp strands as he began to brush her hair. Purring softly at the feel of the firm strokes smoothing out the knots, Sarah sighed, relaxing into the gentle touches of his hands.  _If brushing my hair is included as part of dressing me, I guess I could get used to it._

When he was through smoothing her hair down her back, Jareth turned her to face him once more, his pale eyes sparkling warmly at her. "Sarah, on a normal day, I will likely not bother to dictate what you wear, much less whether you wear knickers. On school days, you wear a uniform, so the choice is already made. I may decide that I want to choose your clothes on weekends, or I may not. It will depend greatly upon my mood and how busy we are. Choosing your clothing and dressing you takes time, and my desires may be dictated by our current needs. However, when you are alone with me, I expect you to be dressed in accordance with the status you have accepted… in the purple silks or anything else I may give you as an option - with no undergarments."

Sarah's emerald eyes narrowed a bit at his words, her teeth worrying at her lower lip. "But you said that intimate things were my choice…"

Jareth's hands cupped her cheeks, drawing her into a tender kiss. Releasing her, he sat on the bed and pulled her down to sit next him, his hands cradling hers. "Sarah, I've given you my oath on that. Whether to seek or accept intimacy will remain your choice. But as part of your training and generally to help you adapt to Fae sexual mores, you will need to become more comfortable with your own body and needs. And yes, it provides easier access should you wish for more intimate activities, or consent to any request on my part."

A frown pulled at her brow, as Sarah's nose wrinkled up in disgust. "Eww… but there are some times when…when being bare just won't work."

Feeling the sudden rush of shame through the bond, Jareth wrapped his arm around her and tucked her close to his side, smiling at the way she seemed to melt into his embrace easily.

"Sarah, any order I give you in training can be questioned. If I were to order you not to wear knickers to school and you were in a moon-bleed week, I would expect you to speak up and  _communicate_  with me - even to the point of being somewhat disrespectful should I not understand the seriousness of your request. But the fact is, that I would be highly unlikely to make such a request. I am Fae. You are my mate. I will always know when that time is upon you, Precious. So rest assured that I will not ask you to go without during that time, without having a good reason for it. All you need to do is trust that I will not put you in a position where you might be embarrassed by it."

Standing, Jareth took her hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm. "For the moment, I just want you to relax and try to enjoy dinner. Remember, everyone here is family and they have been pestering me to bring you to visit them for months now. They will ask questions of you and likely fill your ears with tales of my exploits."

Groaning, Sarah followed him toward the door leading into the hall and what would surely be her most embarrassing evening ever. "I'm not worried about meeting your family. If they are anything like your parents and Alais, I'll love them. I'm more worried about the fact that I'm going to have to give an oral report on Underground Pleasure slaves, in _front_  of your family, while I'm not wearing knickers!" she hissed as they stepped into the hall.

"Well darling, unless you tell them that you are standing there sans knickers, no one but you and I will know," he laughed,patting her hand up on his arm. "Seriously though, Precious...if you get nervous, just take a breath and pretend you are simply explaining pleasure slaves to me in my office as you did last night."

Blushing at the thought of how much doing that had turned her on the night before, Sarah felt the heat in her belly throb to life once more. "Somehow I don't think that will help me feel any more calm."

"Would it help to picture me naked?" he teased.

"No!" Sarah squeaked, her mind already more than willing to remind her just what he looked like nude - a image that was rather impressive.

"Are you sure? I've heard that such things are good ways to overcome nerves."

"NO, Jareth! Picturing you naked will definitely NOT work!" she snapped, her laughter ringing down the hall.

"I'm only trying to help," he chuckled as he led her along.

"Sometimes I doubt that," she muttered, the sound of his laughter humming around her and making her skin tingle.

As they turned enter the main foyer leading to the parlor, Sarah could hear sudden bursts of sparkling laughter, and a number of voices she had never heard before. Feeling her tense beside him, Jareth took her hand from his arm, threading his fingers through hers and gave her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"Remember, love...no one here wishes to harm you. Just stay by my side and draw comfort from your mate - that is one of the reasons a bond is so rare and wonderful. Use it for what it is meant to be used for, Precious. Use the bond to access my strength. Rely upon your mate to build you up."

Shutting her eyes, Sarah felt for the bond, amazed by the steady flow of strength and love that poured through it from Jareth. "I will always take care of my mate," he whispered, his words echoing in her head.

With a quiet node, Sarah opened her eyes, giving Jareth a warm smile as she squeezed his hand. "If I can't face your family, I can't be Goblin Queen so...let's do this."

"That's my girl," Jareth murmured, relishing the burst of pride he felt at her determination. "We'll make you a queen yet."

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

By the time dinner ended, Sarah felt as if she'd never be able to smile or laugh again, the muscles in her face aching from the laughter. From the time they had joined the family in the parlor, Sarah felt as if she had done nothing but laugh. Jareth's family took great pleasure in telling tales of Jareth's more 'questionable' antics through his youth, but Jareth wasn't the only victim. She had been regaled with stories about Oberon and the Troll Queen's 'maids night' party - which Sarah came to understand was similar to a hen's night, only far more...risque. Then King Garen took great pleasure in telling her about Alais and his own queen, Mairee's adventures when they decided to join the elite Green Guard of the Elven Army - a unit that was only filled by males. Apparently they had managed to make it through a month of training before they were discovered to be not only women, but Fae royalty.

One story after another filled the dinner, leaving little time for anyone to grill Sarah or Angel, a fact that left them both feeling relieved. The laughter did the trick though, she and Angel managed to make it through their oral report with minimal embarrassment, particularly given the fact that the report rapidly devolved into the family telling tales of the pleasure slaves they had known or heard of over the years - the good, the bad and the completely ridiculous things that had happened (or been rumored to have happened).

Tucked next to Jareth in the two-seater sofa by the hearth, Sarah let the warm laughter of the assembled family sink into her. It was hard not to feel happy when they went out of their way to make both she and Angel feel as if they were blood members of the household. Sighing softly, Sarah fought to keep her smile and pretend to listen to the tale Alais's paramour Henri was telling, while an icy lance of sadness slashed through her.

_I shouldn't feel this happy….not with Daddy and Karen gone._

Jareth felt a sudden chill through the bond, glancing immediately at Sarah - the laughter upon her face at odds with the scent of pine and winter wind that surrounded her. Shifting slightly, he pressed his lips to her ear, "What's wrong, love?"

With the family engrossed in the story, Sarah turned until her own lips brushed Jareth's ear, safe in the knowledge that to the others, it would look like a simple whispered moment between lovers. "I love them, your family that is….but I feel like...like a traitor to Daddy and Karen."

Like a faint caress of velvet, his lips caressed her temple, as a gentle flow of love and reassurance rolled through the bond."They would be thrilled that you are loved and cared for, Sarah. Of that I am sure. Never feel guilt for being happy, to do so helps no one and changes nothing of the past. The best you can do is to go forth and live well."

Reassured by his words, Sarah found herself joining in the story-telling, sharing for the first time her thoughts about her time in the Labyrinth, and most importantly, her first impressions of Jareth.

"Did you really think he was an arrogant, glittery git?" Alais gasped, laughing so hard tears streamed down her face.

"More like a prancing peacock with all of the costume changes," Sarah giggled. Beside her, Jareth pursed his lips in a stern frown, the whole effect ruined by the way his pale eyes twinkled with amusement.

"That's quite enough, Precious," he grumbled, winking at Sarah who blushed crimson, which only made the family laugh more. Rising, Jareth offered her his hand. "It's nearly 9, love. We have things to see to."

Nibbling her lip nervously, Sarah stood and soon found herself passed from person to person, being hugged, kissed and fussed over, before Jareth managed to extricate her once more. "Alais, would you and Henri care to join us for a moment, there are several things I wish to discuss with you," he asked, sliding his arm around Sarah and escorting her toward the door of the parlor.

Clearly curious, Henri and Alais followed Jareth from the room, the four of them chatting quietly as they made their way through the halls of the manor to Jareth's study. Once there, Jareth settled Sarah in his usual chair by the hearth, then shut the door while Alais and Henri snuggled up on the sofa. Tilting her head, Alais regarded Jareth with open suspicion, the Fairie Queen's violet eyes snapping curiously.

"What is on your mind, brother? The whole family now knows that 9 o'clock is the time you have set for your evening 'accounting'. Why pull us aside for this?" she enquired, her violet eyes narrowing quietly upon her brother.

Waving his hand, Jareth perched himself on the arm of Sarah's chair, his arm draped over the back. "Sheath your claws, LaLa. This is serious, but not in the way you think. There is something I would ask that you share with Sarah, as I believe it would assist her in understanding some of the 'intricacies' we have been discussing of late."

The Fairie Queen frowned quietly, glancing from Henri to Jareth. "And just how might we assist?"

"Henri, with your Queen's permission of course, would you please remove your tie and unbutton your shirt?"

Sarah's green eyes widened in confusion as she looked up at him, "Jareth… I…"

Smiling at her, Jareth lightly placed his finger upon her lips. "Hush, love. Trust me," he murmured, then looked expectantly at Henri.

Henri ran his hand through his long red hair, his fingers flipping it over his shoulder as he glanced at Alais. "My Queen?"

Still wary of Jareth's intent, Alais gave a brief nod of her head. "If you wish to obey his whim, you may, Henri. He already knows and will have his own reasons for demonstrating such to Sarah."

Thoroughly confused now, Sarah watched silently as Henri unfastened his tie, then slowly unbuttoned his shirt. When the third button has been loosened, she saw a glimmer of gold at the base of his throat. By the time the fourth button was opened, a golden collar had appeared, with the mark of the Fairie Queen etched upon the metal.

"Henri...he's...you're….you're her pleasure slave?" Sarah gasped, her own hand immediately rising to her throat, now covered in the high cowl collar of her dress.

"I am," Henri beamed, taking Alais's hand and bringing it to his lips. "I have been so for the last three mortal years, although to this point, the only family member who knows has been Jareth. And now you."

Looking from Henri to Jareth, then to Alais, Sarah shook her head. "But you seem so… so normal. Like any other couple."

The Fairie Queen's laugh chimed lightly through the room. "I should hope so! What we do in private is just that, Sarah…. Private. Unlike royalty in other kingdoms, we don't go about showing off our pleasure slaves in overt ways." Smiling warmly, Henri kissed her cheek, as she giggled brightly. "But, I'm afraid it's more shocking than even Jareth knows." Sharing a brief look with Henri who smiled and nodded at her, Alais tugged at the neckline of her own dress, pulling it down enough to reveal a thin torc around her neck, with a tiny lock hanging from it.

Confused, Sarah peered up a Jareth only to see him blink in surprise, then grin. "Well, well… that  _is_ a surprise Lala. I suppose congratulations are in order?"

Looking from the beaming couple to Jareth, Sarah huffed. "Okay. So he is her pleasure slave. What are you congratulating them for?"

"Darling, that is no mere necklace Alais is wearing, that is a collar. Henri is the collared pleasure slave, but Alais is the one who actually submits," Jareth explained, his hand lightly caressing Sarah's hair.

"Henri has no royal rank, so when we marry, he will be my consort and act as my chamberlain," Alais added, snuggling further into Henri's arms. Glancing at Jareth, she cocked her head. "Why were you so keen for Sarah to learn of Henri's status?"

Caressing Sarah's cheek gently, Jareth smiled down at her, before looking at his sister. "That is for Sarah to divulge if she so wishes. However, should she do so, I would ask that it not leave this room… for now."

Sarah felt her cheeks flush hotly at the curious looks from Henri and Alais, her heart thundering within in her chest. "I… well...it's still very new to me, but," she mumbled, then pulled the neckline down far enough to reveal the silver links of her own collar.

She wasn't sure what she was expecting, but the excited squeal from Alais wasn't it.

"Oh! Congratulations yourself then," she chirped, beaming warmly at Sarah, her violet eyes shining with delight.

"I...ah...thanks...I think?" Sarah muttered, as her hands fidgeting awkwardly in her lap.

His hand falling to rest lightly on Sarah's shoulder, Jareth smiled. "Sarah has only accepted the offer of a training collar this afternoon, but I wanted her to see how 'normal' a pair involved in such an arrangement truly are." Rising, Jareth waved his hand toward the door, the lock clicking free. "Now...if you would excuse us, we are indeed late for our accounting of the day and have some 'things' that must be dealt with yet this evening."

Hopping to her feet, Alais swooped in and hugged Sarah tight. "I'm thrilled for you, Sarah. Honestly, submitting is freeing, as odd as it may sound. If you ever want to have another woman's side of things, particularly one who submits, come chat. My door is always open for you." Taking Henri's hand, Alais left the room, leaving Sarah and Jareth alone at last.

Jareth pushed the door shut, then flicked the lock. His attention focusing inward, he drew a single fingertip over the wood. A glowing blue sigil appeared at his touch, sealing the door from any who would seek to enter. Turning, he half expected to see Sarah still sitting in the chair, a warmth spreading through him to find her kneeling quietly on the thick embroidered cushion next to his chair.

"So, it is time to settle our accounts for the day, isn't it, Sarah love?" Jareth asked, settling into his chair. Dropping his hand to the side he ran his fingers through her hair, enchanted by the peaceful smile on her face. "I believe I owe you seven strokes of the cane."

"Yes, Master," she sighed, leaning into his touch. Her stomach fluttered at the gentle caress of his hand, and even the knowledge that she would receive a punishment did not seem to tarnish the calm that she felt the moment she took her position on the pillow.

Arching an eyebrow as he smiled at her, Jareth tilted her face upward, relishing the quiet calm in her eyes. "Being there feels good, doesn't it, Sarah?"

A faint pink flush filled her cheeks, while her stomach quivered. "Yes...it seems so strange, but it does feel good."

For several minutes he continued to stroke her head, his fingers occasionally caressing her cheek as she leaned against his leg. Around him the gentle scent of vanilla and roses swirled, intertwined with exotic spices. Despite the fact that a punishment was owed, Sarah was quiet and calm, happy in fact, in a way Jareth had not felt in her since she had arrived in his care. After fifteen minutes, Sarah sighed, the sound a mere whisper in the quiet of the room, "Do we really have to do the punishment?"

Chuckling softly Jareth, stroked her cheek. Truthfully, he had been expecting the question all day. She had learned several valuable lessons in the last 24 hours, yet it seemed she would learn another as well. "I suppose we can forgo the punishment, just this once, in favor of the fun we missed out on earlier, hmmm?"

"Really?" Sarah asked, her green eyes wide as she eyed him warily. "What's the catch?"

"No catch. I too would rather move on to more...pleasurable things," he blithely replied. Standing, he pulled her to her feet. Before Sarah made it two steps toward the door, she felt Jareth spin her and throw her over her shoulder.

"Jareth! Put me down! This isn't proper!" she squeaked with laughter, her hair streaming over her face, to lick at the back of his knees.

Waving a hand at the door to release the lock and the sigil which bound it against intrusion, Jareth merely laughed, "If you think  _this_ is improper, just wait until you see what I do to you once we are back in my bedroom, little pleasure slave."

Around them the world seemed to fold in on itself, until they disappeared from the room, leaving no trace they had been there, except for faint peals of girlish laughter.

**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~**

One minute Sarah had been lost in the lovely sleep of one who had fallen in to a deliciously sated sleep in the arms of the one they loved, and the next she was wide awake staring into the darkness at the side of the bed. Behind her Jareth breathed softly, the heat of his body warming her bare flesh, until she was forced to kick her foot out from under the blankets in order to cool down a bit. She didn't know how long she laid there listening to Jareth's gentle sleeping breaths, while her own sleep remained a distant memory.

Try as she might to find sleep, a pall of disquiet fell over her, a deep sense that something was not right, but she could not think of what would cause such a feeling.

They had returned to Jareth's rooms, and true to his word he had proceeded to cover make her scream his name - which involved spanking her bum until it was rosy and tingling, then rolling her over and covering her with swirls of pink and purple icing, before he spent the better part of three hours happily licking off of her - interspersed with giving her several of the most delicious orgasms she had ever felt.

With each quiet breath Jareth took, the disquieting feeling grew, until Sarah thought she might scream with the terrible force of it weighing down upon her. Fearful of waking him should she toss and turn, she finally gave up and crept from the bed, only to freeze when he snuffled in his sleep. Holding her breath, she watched the shadowy figure still in the bed, sure that the thundering of her heartbeat would wake him further. When the clock ticked over to 3:13 she let out a slow wavering breath and tiptoed from the room, her touch light as she shut the bedroom door behind her.

Sarah breathed a sigh of relief and dropped onto the sofa, cringing at the squeak of the springs. Grabbing the fluffy blanket from the back of the sofa, she pulled it around her nude body, the scent of vanilla and lavender icing still clinging to her skin. Curled in Jareth's bed she was more than warm enough, safe and protected in his arms. Without him, the house, and the world itself was a very cold place. Snuggling into the blanket, she sniffed miserably, scrubbing the heel of her hand against her wet eyes, as she willed herself to sleep once more. The steady ticking of the clock upon the mantle kept her company in the long minutes of the night, counting down time in an endless display of will. But deep down she knew she would be unable to suffer this disquieting feeling alone for long - either she would crack and seek Jareth out, or he would feel her absence and come to her.

Hearing the bedroom door creak softly, she cringed, even as she welcomed Jareth's presence to temper her misery. "It is late, Precious. Why aren't you sleeping?" he asked with quiet concern as she entered the parlor, his pale chest illuminated by the moonlight streaming in from the balcony. Unlike Sarah, he had pulled a robe on over his loose lounging pants.

"I...I…." she mumbled, shaking her head and falling silent, unable to put into words the terrible feeling that coiled within her.

Jareth sat next to her upon the sofa, his arm wrapping around her and pulling her close, until the very heat of him began to seep through the robe and her blanket. Despite the heat of him which warmed her from within, it did little to thaw the cold feeling of dismay that sat heavily in her chest.

"What is troubling you, Sarah? I cannot help if you don't confide in me."

Restlessly running a hand through her sleep knotted hair, Sarah sighed and shook her head. "I feel… off-balance."

Feeling her misery through the bond made Jareth's heart ache for her, knowing this was a lesson she must learn the hard way. His hand gently stroked her arm as he held her. He was familiar with the pain she felt and knew that she must come upon the solution herself, or the lesson would be for naught.

"Why is that," he asked, the gentle tone making the disquiet inside her writhe, digging deeper within her, like a cancer.

Miserably Sarah groaned, shaking her head before burying it in her hands. "I...I don't know. I thought getting out of the punishment would be easy, but it's not. I feel…like I cheated or something," she moaned, peering at him through her fingers. "I feel terrible. Nervous. Ill and jittery - all at once."

"You feel like you left something undone?" Jareth suggested with a knowing smile.

Sarah frowned, raising her head and looked at him. His eyes bore into her intently, but not unkindly, seeming instead to know exactly how she felt and why. "How did you know?"

"Because, deep down you know you owe me those cane strokes as penance for misbehaviour and until the accounting is properly done, you will continue to feel this way," he replied, as if the answer were obvious. "That is the nature of punishment in this type of relationship, my love. Punishment clears the slate, reinstating the equilibrium. It is that which you feel keenly now - you are, quite correctly as you put it, out of balance and will remain so until the account is cleared."

Sighing, Sarah hung her head, even as Jareth pulled her closer, his embrace comforting. "That's why I am supposed to ask for my punishment in the evening? Isn't it?" she whispered, already knowing the answer.

"It is."

He need not see her face or use the bond to know that she was wrestling with her disparate desires, wanting to avoid punishment, but finding the harrowing weight of an account owing, to be more than she could comfortably bear.

Silence echoed loudly in Sarah's ears. She felt without a doubt that what Jareth said was true, she would not find peace until she dealt with it and accepted the consequences. "I don't like punishment," she murmured, shrinking further into his embrace.

"No one does, my darling. That is why the distinction must be made between pain for punishment and pain for pleasure."

Shaking her head, Sarah sighed, her words thick with potential tears, threatening to be shed, "No, it isn't the pain I hate...well, that's not the worst part anyway. It's...your disappointment." Sarah muttered, burying her face against his chest and breathing deeply of the scent that clung to him. "You never say it of course, but I always know. I can feel it. And it's the worst part."

"Sarah, what you say is true. I am disappointed when punishment must be administered. There is no way around that, I am afraid," Jareth replied, his fingers gently stroking Sarah's arm. "All you can do when it is required is to get it over as quickly as possible, so that I may remind you that the disappointment is fleeting, but the love and care, those are infinite."

Falling quiet once more Sarah shut her eyes, drinking in the feel of him wrapped around her, protecting her even from her own fears and insecurities. Unable to stand the odd feeling any longer, she frowned, her words soft and pleading, "Please, Jareth… may I have my punishment now?"

The Goblin King's lips brushed the top of her head in a gentle kiss before releasing her from his embrace. "I think that is a very wise decision, Precious. Up you get, and bend over the armchair, so we may put this unpleasantness behind us, hmm?"

Without a word, Sarah rose and moved from the sofa to lean over the back of the armchair, her palms flat upon the seat. Hearing him moving around the room, her stomach fluttered wildly, sending goosebumps coursing down her arms. Around her the light in the room changed, until it was dark enough for her to feel the heavy weight of the early morning hours, but light enough that Jareth could see clearly for what must be done.

"I dislike the idea of punishing you in here, but for the moment, I think your need to clear the slate far outweighs my own preferences, Precious," he said quietly, his hand coming to rest against her lower back. A shiver of anticipation ran down her spine at his touch, accompanied by the frantic fluttering of her stomach. "Seven strokes… and there is no need to count them tonight, love. I think we both want this done as quickly as possible."

Hanging her head, Sarah nodded, her words a faint whisper, "Thank you...Master."

Jareth took a deep breath, pushing down the ache in his own chest at what must be done. The first stroke was delivered with a quick slash of the cane, striking true across her curved bum hard enough for a raised red line to immediately spring forth. Sarah gasped soundlessly at the impact, the stinging burn making her eyes water. The second stroke caught her just under the first, leaving a symmetrical line that throbbed and stung as heatedly as the first. By the third, she was unable to hold back her pained whimper, sucking in a lungful of air as tears dripped upon the leather seat of the chair. Each stroke stung, delivered with the same force and precisely applied so that no line overlapped another - yet Sarah knew that the force, while punishing, was not as hard as it might be, nor as hard as he had struck her before. Jareth was holding back, knowledge which only made her cry harder. The final cane stroke was the hardest, eliciting a startled cry of pain from Sarah, the instant before she found herself scooped against his chest.

Cradled in his arm, Sarah felt his heart hammering against her ear, while her tears ran down his chest. Swiftly he moved back into his bedroom, only to climb into the bed with her still in his arms, the robe disappearing as he lay her down. Drawing the covers around her, Jareth tucked her in, before wrapping his own body around hers once more.

"You were holding back," she whispered, sniffing as he wiped her tears away with his thumb, his lips tenderly caressing her forehead. "Why?"

"There was no need to use more force, my love. Your own shame made even the lightest blows hurt here," he replied, lightly resting his hand upon her heart. "Punishment is not about pain, but about effect. In the right mindset, the lightest of touches would be as punishing as the heaviest of flogger strokes."

Burrowing into his chest, Sarah sighed, letting her tears fall freely now. With every tear that fell against his flesh, a gentle pulse of love and compassion pushed through the bond, until she felt as if she were being cradled in a warm pool of his love. Surrounded by the security she only felt in his arms, Sarah finally drifted back to sleep.

"Rest, Sarah mine. The slate is cleared once more," he murmured softly into the darkness, his own sleep slow to return, as he lay in watch over the woman in his arms.

* * *

 **Authors Note:** As always...please review!

 


	35. A Plot is Afoot

**Ch. 36 A Plot Is Hatched**

**Note:**  Sorry for how long it took to update this. I've been dealing with a whacking horrible bout of writer's block since early November. I've tried all kinds of things to break it and nothing helped, until I started writing in 15 minute bursts. It's still a struggle, so please be patient with me. My health has been lousy since before Christmas and work is a mess, so I don't have much time to write and when I do have time all I want to do is sleep.

Anyway, as always, please review :)

* * *

The steady ticking of the clock upon the mantel punctuated the rhythmic beating of Jareth's heart, the quietness belying the sense of unease that crawled beneath his skin, setting his very being on edge. A week had passed since Sarah had accepted the training collar and willingly consented to their relationship becoming more intimate, both emotionally and physically. On the surface, everything seemed normal, but he couldn't shake the sense that something was decidedly off.

Frowning, Jareth stared intently at the the computer screen upon his desk, neat rows of financial figures filling his vision, yet remaining unseen. The sound of ice cracking in the crystal highball glass by his right hand, melded with the ticking of the clock, doing little to distract him from his thoughts.

Thoughts of Sarah.

When his clock went off Monday morning, the week started on a high note, with Sarah wrapped in his arms. During breakfast she was quieter than usual, but he attributed that to the way she was checked her homework calendar and reviewed for her Calculus exam. That evening dinner was a quiet affair. Both he and his parents tried to draw her into the conversation, but she was uncharacteristically reserved. Jareth watched her as he spoke to his parents, wondering at the slight hollow sound to her laughter and the dullness in her eyes.

Promptly at nine o'clock that evening she appeared in his study and sunk to her knees on the blue embroidered cushion next to his desk chair, even leaning against his leg as he finished up his work. The silence was companionable enough. As he worked, Jareth stroked his fingers through her hair, smiling at the soft sighs from Sarah. When he shut down the computer at 9:15 and moved to his leather armchair, Sarah followed, curling up on the cushion once more and asking for her punishment - a punishment that was summarily delivered. There was no need to strike her hard, her entire demeanour spoke volumes. From her downcast eyes to the quiet tears of regret that followed each stroke of the cane, it was clear that Sarah finally understood the seriousness of her choices and was learning the lesson.

But Jareth took no pleasure in the victory.

That night she came to his bed as usual, waiting quietly for him to undress her, before she slipped under the covers clad only in the diaphanous purple silk. Jareth finished his evening tasks, all the while keeping watch over her, wondering at the strange feel of her mood - muted and dull, a strange metallic scent hanging around her, where he had grown accustomed to the scent of love, or even desire. Sliding into the bed with her, he picked up his book, pausing to watch the way her fingers caressed the fine chain around her throat. She said nothing to him and he did not push her to speak. Falling into their usual pattern, Jareth began to read, the words having a mechanical quality to them, as his thoughts turned toward Sarah and his growing suspicion that something was very wrong.

From there his suspicions only grew, as did his frustration. Each evening Sarah spent dinner with his parents, while he dealt with kingdom matters Underground. Promptly at nine o'clock, his study door would open and she would appear. Taking her place as was required in her training, she responded to questions and addressed him properly, with no cause for him to remind her of her training protocols. It was as if the flame inside her had been doused, yes she still drew near to him, leaning into his caress as he stroked her head or cheek, one of her hands tracing the embroidery upon her cushion, while the other glided possessively over the collar around her throat.

Frowning Jareth loosened his tie with an irritable tug. A long pull of the whiskey in his glass did little to assuage him. If it weren't for the fact that she continued to wear the collar, the symbol of her submission, he would have been sure she had changed her mind about her training, yet she seemed to treasure the collar and her place beside his chair. Only then, in that place behind the heavy door of his study, was he able to feel her emotions, a bittersweet mix of peacefulness and sadness that was reassuring and confusing. Outside of his study, it felt as if she she was actively pulling away from him, until even her emotions were muted and hard to feel, something that unnerved him greatly.

Add to that the fact that had stopped seeking comfort in his bed at night, and the Goblin King was more than unnerved, he was worried.

A quiet knock on the study door drew his attention, before the door was pushed open, the ruddy face of Mrs. Brown peering in. "Oh, excuse me Sir...it is so late I assumed you had retired for the evening."

Nodding, Jareth waved the housekeeper in with a quiet smile. "It's fine, Tess...come in and do what you must. I find myself struggling to sleep this week."

"You aren't the only one. Must be the moon," she quipped.

Jareth cocked his head and peered at her, as she moved around collecting the dessert tray she had delivered during Sarah's evening lesson. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, just that Sarah seems to be having trouble sleeping too. Several times this week I went in to wake her and she was asleep on her sofa, and once asleep sitting in her desk chair with her head on her books and papers. I don't think she's slept in the bed all week, it hasn't been touched."

Seeing her employer lost in thought Mrs. Brown slipped from the room with the dirty dishes, blissfully unaware of the speed with which Jareth locked the door upon her exit. Jareth caressed the large crystal resting in the golden holder on the desk, "Mother… a word if you please."

The grey mist within the shimmering orb cleared, revealing the High Queen flanked by her ladies in waiting, secluded in a floral bower that Jareth knew well from his childhood. Titania's lavender eyes glowed warmly as she smiled at him. "Good evening, Jareth darling. I take it the children are off to the land of Nod?"

Sighing, Jareth ran a hand through his hair. "Toby is happily dreaming about a pirate ship crewed by pirate goblins, but it is not my boy that worries me."

"Is there a problem with Sarah?" she asked, her face pinching at the thought.

"I was hoping you could tell me."

Titania waved a hand, dismissing her ladies before turning her attention back to the crystal. "She has been acting odd this week. Your father and I wanted to enquire, but thought it best to give you two some space as you had seemed to be getting along so well. Have you had a falling out of some kind? A misunderstanding perhaps?"

Shaking his head, Jareth sighed. "Not that I am aware of. Sunday night we went to bed as we have been, with her curled into me and woke up the same way Monday morning. From that point on something has felt off, and I'll be damned if I can figure out what it might be. I can't even feel her emotions as well as I could before. It's as if the bond is dying," he said, a hint of misery creeping into his words, in the unguarded moment with his mother.

The High Queen nibbled her lower lip, a sheepish cast to her face. "Well, I may have had something to do with the meted emotions, darling." Seeing the storms brewing in her son's eyes, she shook her head, "Don't be angry, Jareth. She came to me and asked for help controlling the bond link, as she was finding it difficult to focus on schoolwork during the day because she was constantly being inundated with your feelings of frustration or boredom at High Council. Sarah thought it would be best if she could control the link."

Torn between admiration of the Sarah's queenly logic and frustration, Jareth downed the last of his drink in one long swallow before answering. "While I can understand and appreciate her desire not to feel things that distract her, that does not explain why she chooses to keep her emotions muted at all times now."

"Jareth, give the girl time. She is still young as a human and as a Fae. While she seems more content with you, it will still be a struggle. Our world and expectations are vastly different to the Aboveground. It must be overwhelming to take it all in so quickly, and she has really done marvelously at adapting in the last two months."

Nodding, Jareth found that he could not argue with her assessment. "I'll try, although I don't think you quite appreciate how difficult it will be not to push her. I want her to talk to me, mother. I don't want her to revert to hiding things from me. Not now...we've come too far."

The gentle warmth of Titiana's smile soothed his fears in the way only a mother's love could. "If it has you this concerned, then try talking to her, Jareth. Don't push for answers, but show her how her pulling away makes you. Sometimes, it is not strength that breaks down barriers, but an admission of vulnerability."

Jareth's fingers slid over the glittering skin of the crystal, his mother's words striking a chord within him. While he had given Sarah ample opportunity to speak to him if she wished, he had not opened up to her about how it was affecting him. "There is logic to what you suggest, Madame."

Titania's tinkling laugh echoed from the crystal as the mist once more swirled within, "Of course there is, darling. There is a reason I get on so well with humans and your father's dalliances never last long - I understand how they think."

Watching the last of the mist swirl through the orb, Jareth considered her words.

"Why must love be so complicated," he muttered, shutting down his computer and turning off the light in his study.

_**~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~~J/S~** _

Glancing at the clock, Jareth shut the book in his lap and leaned his head back against the headboard of the bed. In the next instant he was on his feet, snatching up his dressing gown and pulling it on as he strode toward the hall, the door to his parlor and the suite flying open before he reached them. _'Six nights without her in my arms. Seven days of her quiet responses, lifeless laughter and dull eyes. Enough is enough.'_

His footfalls were silent on the thick carpets that lined the stairs and hall. Reaching her door, he paused, staring at the heavy wood for a long moment before raising his hand and giving it a quiet rap. Without a word, the door opened. Blinking, he peered inside, curious to find her still sitting on her sofa a sketchbook open on her lap, her hair twisted into a knot upon her head, held in place with five different pencils. With her eyes still on her drawing, she said nothing, as he entered the room, only stabbing her pencil into her hair and plucking another one from it, before returning to her skitch.

"Your control over moving objects is coming along, Sarah," he murmured from the doorway.

"Thanks."

Fighting down the wave of frustration at yet another one word reply from her, Jareth tried again, "Mother reports that you are even working on dampening emotions and protecting your thoughts?"

Sarah said nothing, merely giving a quiet nod. Although she studiously avoided her gaze, Jareth could not help but notice that her green eyes were slightly glassy, as if she had been crying. Still in the doorway, Jareth resisted the urge to rush to her, trying desperately to give her the space he had been advised to give, when every cell within him demanded he comfort his mate.

"Did you want something?" she finally asked, her voice thick with recently shed tears.

Tilting his head, Jareth gave her a warm smile, his pale eyes noting her every breath and movement. "Not particularly, Precious. You haven't visited the last few nights and I was missing your company - this whole relationship thing goes both ways, you see," he said, his tone light and teasing, hoping for a smile in return only to be disappointed with a smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes.

"Oh… well… are you going to come in then or just lurk in the doorway?" she asked, looking away from his penetrating gaze.

With her hollow words still hanging in the air, Jareth shut the door behind him and crossed the room, settling on the sofa at her feet. Without a word, he pulled her feet into his lap, gently massaging them through her thick slipper socks. Smiling at her quiet sigh, he continued to dig his thumbs into the pressure points she most enjoyed, his worry easing at the way she relaxed with the familiar caress.

"I didn't want to intrude until you had actually invited me, Sarah."

Plucking a pencil from her hair, Sarah went back to her sketch, giving a doleful sniff. Jareth frowned slightly as he watched her, his senses carefully probing the bond link, and being greeted with the dull, lifeless emotions he had felt for over a week. Around her swirled faint hints of cedar and winter wind - sadness. Despite the muted emotions he now felt through the link, Jareth felt sure she needed his comfort, yet he could not place why or how.

"Sarah… love…" he began, his hand gently stroking her foot, despite her stubborn avoidance of his gaze. "I can't help but feel something is off between us. I would dearly love to help resolve whatever is troubling you, if you would care to talk about it."

"It's not that, Jareth," Sarah sighed, tucking the pencil into her bun. Her eyes stared vacantly at the sketch in her lap, glassy and unfocused. Shaking her head, her fingers traced along the paper.

"You know you have no reason to feel guilty for what has happened. You are an adult and almost full Fae. To want to experience pleasure and intimacy with one you are bonded to, is natural."

Her cheeks flushed hotly, even as she hung her head, the scent of pine growing stronger around her. Jareth wondered at the sudden misery she was feeling.

"We...you and I… we're okay, Jareth," she said, her words barely a whisper.

"Darling, you've spent the last two weeks in my arms and bed each night. You accepted my training collar willingly, and now suddenly you have retreated back to your rooms. Yet Mrs. Brown says you are not sleeping well. On top of that you seem far more reserved than you have been," he replied, his fingers ceasing their firm caress of her foot. "I can't help you, if you will not confide in me. Others would simply order you to share what is bothering you, but...I will not do that, Sarah," he sighed, his pale eyes quietly pleading. "I just want to know how I can help."

"I just… I want to be on my own right now. It isn't you. I promise," she said, finally raising her head to look at him, her green eyes shimmering with tears threatening to spill over. "I...I need time. Please. Just a bit."

Reaching over, his fingers caressed the chain around her throat. "If it is this that is troubling you, Precious, I will happily remove it. I would rather this not come between us… not if it ruins that which we have managed to build."

Shimmering tears clung to ebony eyelashes, before beginning their slow descent down her cheeks, as her hand flew protectively up to the chain that lay with reassuring weight at the base of her throat. "I...I do need this right now. Please don't take it away, Jareth. Please!" she pleaded, her words punctuated with heavy teardrops that splashed on her arm.

Jareth caressed her cheek, his touch tender. "Sarah, if time is what you need to work through whatever is troubling you, then I will gladly give it to you. But remember this, I am always here for you. You can come to me with anything, day or night, and I will move the stars to help you if I can."

"I know," she mumbled miserably, her gaze dropping once more, while her grasp on the chain continued.

Curling his fingers gently under her chin, Jareth lifted her face so her watery eyes once more met his. "I love you, Precious Sarah. Do not forget," he murmured. Leaning toward her, he pressed a brief kiss to her forehead, hating the misery that encircled her, and hating more his inability to change it.

"I won't forget," she whispered, leaning into the kiss. Pulling away from his touch, she quickly ripped the sheet from her sketchbook and folded it in half, before offering it to him. "I...well...here," she mumbled. "Um… don't look at it here tho."

Jareth nodded with a quiet smile, the fact that she would share her art with him in any small way, touching him. "I promise," he murmured, then turned and strode toward the hall. Pausing in the doorway, he glanced back to her over his shoulder, his pale eyes flickering softly in the rosy light of her parlor. "Should you need me, Sarah…."

"I'll call…." she answered, giving him a wan smile. "Thank you, Jareth."

With a resigned sigh, Jareth shut her door and started down the hall, only to stop when a quiet voice spoke from the middle of the stairs below him.

"She's still upset isn't she?"

Jareth stopped and looked down at the small boy sitting hunched over on the steps, a stuffed goblin clutched in his arms, while a real goblin sat next to him, it's orange eyes as tearful as the lad's. Fighting back his own concern for Sarah, and the feeling that he had been neglecting to see to Toby's emotional well-being while focusing on Sarah's, Jareth sat down next to Toby and pulled the child into his lap, "Yes, my boy. Sarah is upset."

The diminutive goblin crept closer to his King, until he was snuggled against Jareth's hip and clinging to the leg of his human charge. "Lady unhappy, Sire," the goblin moaned pitifully.

"So it seems, Squidbait," Jareth murmured, petting the small goblin's bushy green head. "I only wish I knew why she was so sad."

Toby burrowed deeper into the Goblin King's arms, his small body shaking slightly with tears.

Hugging the child close, Jareth rocked him. "Here now, Toby. Why the tears...hmm? Just because Sarah is sad is no reason for you to be sad too."

"But I know why she is sad," Toby whimpered, scrubbing his wet eyes with the cuff of his pajama shirt. "I feel the same."

Jareth stroked the child's back gently, feeling Toby's own anguish through the familial link. _'Blast and damn, I should have checked on Toby's emotional state,'_  Jareth cursed himself for a fool. Shaking his head to clear away his own frustration, he gave the boy a warm smile and a reassuring squeeze. "Well, perhaps if you told me what was troubling you both, I could fix it and we could make you and Sarah happy again?"

"No...you can't. I asked Poppa and he said that as much as he loved all of us, it was the one thing he couldn't do," Toby whimpered miserably, a fresh wave of tears dampening Jareth's chest through his shirt.

An icy feeling coiled around Jareth's heart, at the realization of what Toby must have asked the High King to do. Sighing, he brushed sandy hair back from the boy's tear streaked face, knowing that he had to ask, but dreading the answer he was sure to come.

"What is that, Toby?"

"Bring back our Mummy and Daddy," Toby mumbled against Jareth's chest.

Jareth felt his heart ache for the child, wishing fervently that he could do as the boy asked, but such magic was forbidden. After several long minutes, he sighed, still stroking Toby's back, "Toby...my son… is there a reason why you and Sarah are both feeling this so keenly now? Has something happened? Has someone said something thoughtless or mean?" Toby shook his head, sitting up straighter in Jareth's lap. Smiling gently at the small boy, Jareth tenderly wiped the remaining tears from the child's eyes. "You know I will fix it if someone has been thoughtless."

"Next week is Thanksgiving," Toby sighed, pulling Squidbait into his lap and squeezing the little goblin's neck so tight, the poor thing's orange eyes bugged out and it grunted in pain, but didn't utter a word of complaint.

Frowning slightly, Jareth pondered the child's words, delivered with a matter-of-fact tone that suggested that the answer should be apparent - yet for the Goblin King it was anything but.

"So Thanksgiving is next week… how is that a problem? I was under the impression that Thanksgiving was a happy time for Americans?"

"It is...usually. Sarah loves fall and Thanksgiving especially. But it's… it's a family thing. Mummy always made a huge feast and Daddy always got the Christmas decorations out of the attic, then he and Sarah would plan the decorations for the yard. Then we'd play games and make s'mores, and Daddy always let me fall asleep in his lap by the bonfire," Toby said, his wistful words tinged with tears once more. "I miss them. I think Sarah's sad like I am - we're in England now. There'll be no more Thanksgivings for us."

At the boy's heartbroken sob, Jareth pulled him close once more, vowing to do what he could to assuage their combined pain. They needed a distraction.

"Toby...how would you like to plan a  _big_ surprise for Sarah? A surprise that will make her smile again...I promise there will be s'mores, food and fun games in it for you as well."

Sniffling, the child rubbed his eyes and nodded. "Sure. What d'ya want me to do?"

Jareth lifted Toby in his arms and started back toward the boy's bedroom. "I'll tuck you into bed and tell you all about it. But you are sworn to secrecy, under penalty of no more sleepovers with Ludo, Hoggle and the goblins."

"I swear, Sire!" Toby whispered fervently, his blue eyes wide in their seriousness.

"Good boy…now...what we're going to do is this…."

* * *

_*shakes little wooden box*_

_Please...leave a contribution in the little box! (in other words...please review :) )_


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